


Defying Fate

by shiningray



Category: Loki - Fandom, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Banter, Denial of Feelings, Developing Friendships, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fate & Destiny, Fluff and Angst, Forced Marriage, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Insecurities, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loss of Virginity, Male-Female Friendship, Pining, Plot, Politics, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Protective Loki (Marvel), Slow Burn, court life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:21:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23686861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiningray/pseuds/shiningray
Summary: His heart already belonged to someone; for once, he was happy and content until you came into the picture.Out of duty, he tied knots with you. Both of you were bound by the law, but not by heart.A story of friendship, drama and love.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 58
Kudos: 260





	1. I. Not Happily Ever After

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! Hope you like it!

The pitch-black curtain of the night, freckled with gleaming stars and the mysterious radiance of the silver moon warped your soul in a sense of tranquil.

The bright blooms scattered around illuminated the garden, adding sublimity to the ambience.

Everything looked different at night and it was more majestic than broad daylight.

The sudden rustle of the leaves against the soft wind made you hum in appreciation. The royal garden was certainly more appealing and bewitching compared to the high, golden torrents of the realm.

Nobody can even come close to its beauty.

The said garden was your haven. You came often knowing that the gardens were completely safe and secluded. It swept you away from reality.

The rough textured tree met your back as you sat. Experimentally, you scribbled on the parchment draped over your lap.

It was one of those invigorating nights that you felt more alive than ever. Your mind was swirling with various ideas and you took advantage of it.

Rustling the pen on the parchment, you began to write your thoughts. Scribbling words made you beatific.

It was an art— a mechanism to unwrap thoughts and feelings. The power and control as you carved out your emotions on a piece of parchment was exhilarating and refreshing.

The results were to your satisfaction and you beamed with happiness. The parchment was full of scribbles and the content was substantial.

Rolling the said parchment carefully, you tucked it in your pocket for safekeeping.

Your purpose of going outside was well executed, yet you refused to go inside. There was a captivating force that pulled you to where you sat. You contemplated to sit for a while.

The entirety of the garden was now wrapped in silence bar the water cascading majestically on the fountain and the rustling of leaves every now and then.

Closing your eyes, you let your mind wander. What will your future hold? What will become of you? It was heartbreaking to think about it.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head. It wasn’t the best course of action to surmise your future right now.

You hugged your knees tight and tucked your chin above it. The softness and tranquility made your consciousness fall and found yourself in a profound sleep.

Soft peals of laughter from beyond made you bolt awake. You stoop up and sighed, your legs felt as if a thousand needles shot through it.

Analyzing the environment, you inferred that it was late, for lights inside the palace were already off.

Distinct chatters probed your ears. After letting the blood flow through your numb legs, you walked near the fountain. There was it again, now accompanied by chuckles. A lover’s tryst perhaps.

Dirt and dust hugged your gown and you patted it away as you look for the source of laughters.

Your mouth went agape as those chatters turned into symphony of cries akin to worship.

It continuously probed your ears like a mantra. You can’t help but focus on the image of tangled bodies, worshipping each other like there’s no tomorrow. The image will forever be encrypted on your mind.

The image of your betrothed making love with the love of his life under the starry night.

* * *

A knock was heard. You languidly stretch your arms but refused to open your eyes. Your head was pulsating.

There was a knock again, this time the person behind closed doors didn’t wait for your answers and sauntered in.

Fortunately, you got on your feet before she came in view. You batted your eyes against your lids to exercise them open.

“M’lady,” the young unfamiliar servant started with a radiant smile. “I am assigned to prepare you for the feast tonight.”

A smile procured on your lips. She looked enthusiastic. But you can’t help but ponder. “May I ask, what time is it?”

The young woman started to stammer. “Two hours after noon, m’lady.”

“I see.” You had wasted most of your day sleeping, it seemed. With a sigh, you sat on the bed again and your stomach rumbled softly. Apparent for your ears only. “Let’s get on with it, but first I need some sustenance.”

“Oh. Right, certainly, my lady.” The servant excused herself. When you were alone, your back hit the mattress again. You massaged your throbbing head, hoping it will soothe the ache.

Seconds later, you sauntered to the bathroom and you weren’t quite startled to see your bloodshot eyes. You were mostly awake last night, barely getting sleep. You hoped it will return to normal before the feast starts.

After having sustenance, the preparation commenced. She applied powder into your face and painted your lips.

Currently, the young servant was braiding your hair the traditional Asgardian style, not even opting your opinion on the matter. Well, it was expected to be styled that way.

“Are you perhaps new here?” You asked, quelling your curiosity.

“Aye, m’ lady,” she said, as she proceeded to put lavish pins on your hair. You let the conversation die instantly; you were in no mood to converse. “And done.”

She seemed to be experienced in her job. Your hair looked elegant and delicately done. “Your quite talented,” you compliment, which made her cheeks flush.

You stood up and took in the sight of the elegant gown draped on your bed. It was deep, emerald green with a golden bodice. It was too lavish for your own liking but were given no option.

With a sigh, you dressed yourself with the help of the young servant. You can’t help but wonder her name and you can’t believe how were impolite it was not to ask it first thing. “What’s your name?”

“I am called Ragna,” she introduced, before quickly saying, “my lady.”

The piece of earring clasped into your ear and you were ready to go. You bid your thanks at Ragna before she left. You look at your reflection, good thing your eyes went back to normal. Kudos to Asgardian rapid healing physiology.

The gown and the jewelries did their job. Overly, you look presentable.

You head out to the feast unattended. Either way, it was not like you anticipated Loki to attend you. You walked solemnly despite the noise from below. From where you stood, you can hear the enthusiasm already. You wished you felt the same.

The impeding doors of the feasting hall opened, revealing hundreds of people. With a sigh, to calm your nerves, you walked with your head high. Some looked at your way, confusion etched on their faces as to why you were alone; while some were busy with their own business.

The King and Queen’s grand table was in the middle of the hall. They sat together with high ranking nobles. Frigga’s eyes saw your figure and smiled, which in kind, return the favor.

There were two unoccupied seats on the table which you were certain was for you and your betrothed.

“Your Majesties,” you curtsied. Odin motioned you to take your sit and you do. Far end from your shared table, your family was seated. You had the urge to hug them but it was an inappropriate time for such a thing.

“You look beautiful, my dear,” Frigga complimented.

“Thank your majesty. You yourself look beautiful as well.”

“Oh, child, you flatter me.” She chuckled and silently observed you. Her scrutinizing gaze made you uncomfortable and you fidgeted on your seat.

Servants come and go to serve platters of numerous delicacies from every realm. They served wine as well, the mead later for after the feast. That’s when the real party will start.

Minutes later, Loki arrived. Everybody in the room fell silent. A blonde, gorgeous woman was on his side, wearing his colors and they were holding hands. Murmurs immediately enveloped the room at the scandalous sight.

You bit your lip.

A prince about to be married in a matter of weeks arrived at a feast in honor of his engagement with another woman was on his side. What an uproar.

The loud clang of Gungnir hitting the ground made everybody silent. “Loki.” Odin’s voice was laced with venom, and you shuddered. He was fuming, and Frigga was calming him down.

Loki escorted his lover on a different table. He kissed her cheek before he strolled to your tables. He sat on your right, between his mother and you. You were shaking, not from anger but from the heavy tension.

“Your marriage will commence weeks from now and you dare to bring another woman on your engagement?” Odin spoke but not loud enough for the entire people on the table to hear.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Loki‘s growing smirk. “Well, you diddare marry me off to a woman I barely knew,” he scoffed.

“You know where your responsibilities lay, and certainly not with that girl!”

“I know my responsibilities, father, that’s why I agreed to this frivolous agreement. And my responsibilities do not lay certainty lay with her .” It was the first time he eyed you this evening, but it was full of contempt. “And do not say things about my beloved,” he hissed.

They were clearly losing their tempers, sooner or later they might as well start attacking each other. You on the other hand, did not spare any more glances between the father and son and focused on your plate.

The entirety of the feast, he didn’t even make conversation with you. He ignored you, which you thought was for the best.

Both of you were appalled at the union, there was no denying it.

Deep inside, you were saddened to where this union would become. This was the man you were going to live your life with— this cold prince. You didn’t let your devastation overcome you and maintained a neutral face.

Both of your parents were conversing regarding the marriage. And every now and then, you would politely smile if acknowledged. You fiddled with your necklace as you put the goblet on your lips.

If anything, he was more devastated than you were. He has a lover whom he cherished so dearly, only for him to be married to a woman arranged by his parents.

You felt bad for him and yourself.

* * *

Several servants brought you to the royal bathhouse. It was extravagant, as usual, with hot rocks underneath the water. It was a symbol of washing away a bride’s maiden status.

When finished, you submerged yourself on a cold water. Your mother came, along with your sisters, giving you comfort and reassurance. You acted like everything was fine to avoid them from being worried.

Some said the bride was the most thrilled during the day of the wedding, but that was not the case. Well, for you it was not.

It was your duty as much as you detest it. It was inevitable; it would occur even if delayed. So, why delay if further? You promised you would not let this ceremony bother you for the sake of your parents.

Servants dressed you for the ceremony. They fixed your hair, painted your face, and put lavish jewelries. They dot more on your hair, put several pins and braid it in voluminous Asgardian way. Then a small crown was laid on top of your head.

Finally, you were ready. Physically, not mentally.

*

The bright sunny day in Asgard felt like a gloomy and chilly as you entered the throne room. Your father squeezed your hand, assuring you everything will be alright. In return, you forced a toothy smile.

Cheers echoed the whole room as you enter. The wind made your ruffled dress with plenty of layers flow as your father walked to the aisle.

The whole time, you focused your attention on your would-be-husband. He was dressed in his full regalia. Debonair would be the most accurate way to describe him.

His eyes were intently focus somewhere on the crowd, you’d wager he did not even dare linger his eyes on you the moment the door opened. His eyes were searching on the crowd and he looked agitated.

The ceremony commenced. Both of you exchanged rings and swords. You gave him your father’s sword, as he gave an ancestral intricate sword to you as well— for his heirs to possess. There was also an exchange of insincere vows. It was tangible that the sugar-coated words held no meaning.

You can even hear his disdain when he uttered his meaningless vows. You swore you saw him cringe.

“You may now kiss.” You froze, unsure what to do. Loki leaned forward, placed a kiss on your lips the pulled away. The crowd went wild. The kiss was nothing romantic sort; a duty kiss, that what it was. You laughed internally.

Loki cleared his throat, raising his hand. Immediately, the crowd went silent. “Citizens of Asgard.” He made sure everybody was intently looking at him before he spoke again.

“I eternally grateful for accompanying my beautiful wife and I on this frivolous—“ There was a pause. “Oh, forgive me, I meant wondrous. Wondrous union.

Now, I would ask you again to accompany me for another union. Come forth, my love.” He beckoned his finger to where Sigyn stood. She was fidgeting, as she made her way to where you and Loki stood. All eyes were on her. “I present to you Sigyn Iwaldidottir, my love, my would-be consort. My King, if you would do the honors.”

Ruckus erupted inside the Great Hall. People started shouting. You were startled, confused, uncertain how you should act. The look on your family’s face; it was pure guilt.

The enraged All-father banged Gungnir on the ground and there were cracks. Everybody went silent once again. “Loki! Do you think this place as a circus to perform your jests?”

“But I am not jesting father. Sigyn will be my consort. Have you got no pity to whom my wrath will heap upon if my wish was to be denied? You wouldn’t like it, I assure you.”

His threat made you sick on your stomach. He was divulging on ripping you to shreds subtly in front of the entire kingdom if things were out of his favor. If the All-father denied, the blame of your torment will be accountable not only him, rather both of them. The dark-haired prince couldn’t care less about his reputation, but the All-father did.A Brilliant move , you appraised.

Frigga went to calm her husband. The crowds were anticipating what the next course would be, like watching a theater show.

It was beyond you to void the marriage. You were no princess from another realm, just a regular daughter from native noble house. What would he do to you if the All-father didn’t accord with his wishes?

“Very well, if that’s what you wish. I now proclaim Sigyn to be Loki’s... consort.”

He kissed Sigyn with fervor, it was unlike the kiss he gave you earlier. The kiss was passionate and loving. You wanted to run and get out of the picture. But you remained frozen while your husband shows his affection to his beloved.

The crowd was either amused or appalled and others both. A royalty taking leman was not uncommon. The unspeakable thing was commencing a union with your wife and leman at the same day. No one in the history of Asgard ever did that until today.

He could’ve at least respected the union and wait for another day. You can’t contempt him. In fact, you grasped his exploit well.

You were greeted by sympathetic and distressed faces, knowing your life would be Hel.

This was not the wedding you’ve dreamt as a child. You expected fairytales and happily ever afters. And this wedding, your wedding, was a disaster.


	2. II. Celebration, Consummation & Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Be warned that this chapter contains SMUT. It’s a story about a husband & wife (even though they dislike the concept of it) it’s impossible not to include smut scenes.
> 
> (2) I tried my best to make the sex scene less graphic as possible than I would normally write, so rest assured. Although its highly consensual, so i think there’s nothing wrong with that? [Maybe I’ll write explicit sexual content in the future, but who knows.] 
> 
> (3) It may create confusion since Loki and the reader have alternating POV. A LOT OF ALTERNATING POV. Loki’s POV will be written in 3rd person while the reader will be 2nd person. I really don’t know how to deal with it. . I really want to write their perceptions regarding the ordeal Haha.
> 
> (4) My grammar. English is not my first language. So, yeah.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you like it.

During the feast, the banquet hall was peaceful and solemn as if commencing a feast for a dead person. Maybe solemnity was to offer their condolences towards you, considering that you had tied knots with the trickster himself. 

Loki was forced to be near you at all cost. He did not dare start a conversation, let alone a single glance at your direction as if he’ll turn into a frozen rock if he lingered his eyes at you even for a millisecond.

“Where would you go for your honey moon? Vanaheim? Midgard? Or perhaps Alfheim— there are many secluded lands in the realm and the view is majestic. I could arrange it if you want.” It was a protocol for couples to be left together alone for a week after their marriage. But the idea of going alone to another realm with your husband was uninviting. He loathed your existent to the depths of Hel after all.

“Mother,” Loki sighed, clearly distressed at the idea. “Don’t strain yourself any further. My chambers will suffice.”

“Yes, I know dear. But don’t you want to celebrate your post nuptial vacation in a different environment? A new environment would be healthy for the both of you.”

“No, not really, mother. When you’re with the wrong person, no matter how majestic and wonderful the place is, it would make no difference.” 

Frigga didn’t let the subject escalate further. You were glad that he blatantly refused the queen’s offer. 

Dignitaries from allied realms offered their congratulations and blessings by giving trinkets and luxurious gifts. You were unaware of their presence during the ceremony, but it was no surprise that would attend. _They have to strengthen connections after all._

The solemnity of the room died when the barrels of mead were served.  The mead was akin to a tide of wave suddenly revitalizing the dying fishes on the dry shore— and with the waves, they’re moving a lot and felt alive. 

A bitter smile procured on your lips. Boisterous music accompanied with laughs, chatters and shoutings echoed in the banquet hall. Some of the older fellows excused themselves already, but there were also some who stayed. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw your older sister dancing with his husband and your younger sisters were there as well. You pondered where your brother went, perhaps having a tryst with a maiden. Your parents were making small chat with a Lord who owns a massive land on the east.

Almost the population in the entire room were merrily dancing in the middle— holding hands, twirling in circles and laughing their hearts out. You wanted to join them but your apprehension forbids you. The dreadful feeling still lurked inside your heart. 

_The sun was just rising from the sky when you woke up. Making yourself presentable, you sauntered to the parlor. Upon reaching down the steps, you encountered your brother._

_“Good morning,” he greeted. “A letter with your name on it arrived seconds ago, you might want to check.”_

_The drowsiness abruptly vanished. Without muttering a response, you galloped like a thrilled horse towards the stash of letters at the front door. Your brother was yelling, by the likes of it, reprimanding you, but you were unable to hear coherent sentences due to your elation._

_You smuggled the letters until you found the one you were looking for. Your name was elegantly written in a cursive way at the back. The material of the paper was high quality and the emblem- just seeing the emblem with a crescent moon made your heart pound on your rib cage. There was no doubt it was from the Queen, it was her symbol._

_You frantically ran towards the dining room, bumping to several servants along the way. When you saw your parents, you waved the sealed letter at them. They gave each other a knowing look at each other._

_You unsealed the letter read it aloud. The queen invited you to the royal palace to continue your study in the palace itself in a guise of being her lady-in-waiting. You have been waiting for your entire life to study at the palace._

_You squealed like a dying boar. Propriety be damned. You were happy and could cry any moment but you controlled your emotion._

_“Lower your damned voice, you’re so irritating,” your older brother chastised, as he made his way to the dining hall. You beamed at him, which in return, he rolled his eyes._

_“I’m going to the palace! I’m going to be a scholar! What should I do now?”_

_“The best course would be to write your gratitude for the Queen.” Your family was smiling; they were as overwhelmed as you._

_That same day, you expressed your thanks to the queen._

_By the next moon, you were transported to the palace. You were going to live there for a while. The journey was long, but you were restless, thrilled and many more emotions overwhelmed you._

_You got out of the carriage and appreciate the view. It was not often you came here. You were greeted by a woman who seemed to be older than you. She was tasked to bring you to the queen. You straightened your back and followed her._

You were brought to reality when Ragna called you. You looked at her questioningly.

“My Lady, it’s time.” All the sounds in the room immediately died in your ears and was replaced by your plummeting heart. 

“Of course.” You clasped your hands behind your back, refraining her to see your quivering hands. As you exited the hall, the music abruptly stops and the cheering and clapping suddenly erupted.

“Go forth and conquer!”

“Best wishes your highness!”

“Go get that royal dick!”

Their lewd cheering and commentary were humiliating and unnecessary, it made you cringe especially the last one. You noted that your husband was nowhere to be found. Perhaps he and Lady Sigyn slipped when the hall got rowdy. And were celebrating their own consummation at the moment. Besides, it was their union as well.

Ragna escorted you to Loki’s chambers. The pleasant smell of leather and snow wrapped his room. There was no sign of life in the room. You were mistaken with the impression that they would be here. 

Ragna lighted the candles, making his room bright, which is not too much to your liking since you’d be doing your duties later on-- if he comes, of course. You requested to not make the room bright, so she only lighted few candles.

Like every aspect of the palace, his quarters was extravagant. It fits his status quite well. From where you stood, you saw various vials and magical commodities on his shelf. There were countless of books as well on the shelf, you would like to get your hands on them in the near future if possible. 

Ragna helped you prepare again—pulling your pins from your hair down to helping you lose your bodice to dress you in a sheer nightgown.

“I wish you good luck, highness,” she said before she left. You were unsure what to do. You felt like you were invading his sanctuary. Nonetheless, you quietly sat on the divan. You have duties to uphold, there was no backing down.

*

The sweet, succulent aroma of the wine was strong and it tempted Loki, it was as if it was whispering to him to have a gulp. He rose on his feet and opted to pour wine on his goblet once more. He had a few drinks, but it will hurt no less to have more.

“You’re not supposed to drink, my love,” Sigyn whispered, but he did so anyway. He was angry and he needed to calm his raging nerves. She abruptly placed her hands and rubbed his stiff shoulders. He relaxed at her touch.

She had a point, as always. He shouldn’t drink, not when it was almost time for the consummation night. But, if these were the premises, he was not even sure he will withstand the night without lashing out on his poor  wife . So he took another goblet and takes a tentative gulp.

”I know my love, I know. But you can’t expect me to bed  her  while staying sober.” Part of his drinking was for the sake of his wife. Wife. It sounded bitter on his tongue, like a poison. 

However, for the most part, it was for his sake. Perhaps if he was drunk, he’d have the stomach to bed her.

“Oh, Loki, you know she’s not one to blame,” His sweet Sigyn said. He sighed. He was aware that you were faultless, you were a victim in this whole ordeal like him. But he can’t help to be angered by you.

“It’s almost time.” The way she said it made his heart clench. She was trying to be nonchalant, but her tone said it all. He was too focused on himself and he disregarded what his beloved felt.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he petted her soft golden hair. “I am sorry. Please, never doubt that I love you.”

“I understand, Loki.” She was so understanding, it made him feel undeserving of her love. If he had only done more. If he had more time, he could have null the marriage. But, Alas! They announced it in a short course of time. That sneaky old man, he planned it quite well. “I love you too.”

With a sigh, he retracted her delicate fingers on his shoulders and stood up. He crouched down, kissed her forehead and savored the taste of her skin before going to his onslaught, in other words, the consummation. “I will be back.”

He walked towards his chambers, trailing an aura of hatred on the marble floors along the way. He opened the impeding doors of his chambers as loud and as dramatic as he could.

Despite the darkness that lurks inside his room, he could perfectly see his wife. Her back was on him, surely she must’ve heard the doors open but she didn’t even dare to look back. A thought suddenly popped inside his depraved mind. 

If he were to conjure his dagger and pierce her with it, his life with his beloved would be much better. Much, much better. He shook his head at the idea. If that were to happen, he would be the primary suspect.

Her hair was down, resting freely on her front and backside. She was soft in a fragile way, unkempt, like a porcelain ready to fall on the ground if handled roughly and shatter into thousand pieces.

*

For a while, the only sound in the vast chamber was his ragged breathing. You can faintly smell wine, sweet as honey in his breath. He was so appalled by you and let himself get drunk. 

He gracefully sat beside you, his legs splayed open.  A show of dominance, you thought, most men do it to establish control. You bit your lips, it was a good thing the room was dark enough so that he couldn’t see your nervousness. 

“I’m considering to spare you a night of torment,” he said. His deep voice was not laced with sympathy towards you, rather it was sympathy for himself.

“Your highness—“ your voice came out weak and shaky. Clearing your 

throat, you spoke in a nonchalant but determined voice. “It will be bound to happen sooner or later. There’s no point in prolonging the inevitable.”

You had known from a young age that you’d be married off as a trophy wife. That you will need to bear heirs. You were prepared of the concept of it— not the act of it. But you didn’t have any choice. And, as you said, you’re only prolonging the inevitable.

“I was offering kindness, you wretched thing; and you declined. Well, then, lay on the bed.” 

Immediately, you oblige and your backside hit the soft, cloudy feeling of the mattress. You were about to remove the sheer gown the covered your body, until he spoke.

“Leave that thing on, I don’t want to see you.” His biting words did not pang your heart, not one bit. It was the fact that you knew he’d do or say something like that, it was no surprise at all.

The pressure of his weight made the mattress dip. You took a deep breath, calming your nerves. The tip of his finger grazed at your neck and felt your skin tingle in a frenzy.

“Do you want to do this my  wife?”  The venomous way he uttered wife  didn’t leave your notice.

“No, but we have a duty to uphold.” You were raised as a proper maiden; to be as proper as a lady should act. This was a matter of duty; a responsibility; a chore. And it must be executed, even if it was against your will. 

Loki chuckled bitterly at your response as he vehemently shook his head. “Very well then.” 

Your eyes drifted to the ceiling as the sound of his dry leather trousers made its way to your ears. Tears welled up on your eyes at the excruciating pain when intruded without warning.

“You’re a maiden,” he noted with an amused tone. “You really are a sacrifice aren’t you? Pure and refined groomed for a life time of slavery.” It was partly true, tying knots with someone with no shared connection or sentiment was akin to slavery.

Before you could respond, he began to move. It was painful, you expected it, but not to an extent. Your core was burning with pain as he thrust in and out. The coppery taste of blood coated your taste buds as you bit your lip hard to stifle cries coming from your throat. 

You laid on his bed pliant and quiet waiting for him to be done. There was no pleasure in the act on your part. After plentiful thrust, thick white ropes erupted emerged from his manhood and he wasted no time pulling back when all his essence made its way to your core.

*

Loki laid on his back, catching his breath. He had tried to be as gentle as possible— a wedding gift for his virginal wife. He was frustrated the entire time, even after his release. She was just lying underneath him like a corpse. He had even the impression that maybe his jostling inside of her had killed her. 

The girl on his bed was panting for air like she just came out from a sparring match. Well, he was doing the sparring, not her. But she was breathing heavily. He searched for a sign on his sheets and luckily there was a stain of red.  Good, nobody would fret.

He let her rest until her breathing became normal. “Now, off you go, wife,” he shooed, tapping her bosom a little. The words were cruel, but she showed no reaction for his cruelty.

*

After he said those words, you immediately get on your feet, despite your agonizing aching core. 

“I wish you a pleasant night, your highness.” You mustered all your strength and curtsied before heading out. Underneath your nonchalant façade, you were booming with humiliation, insecurity and fear. 

When you reached your chambers, you sprawled yourself on the bed. You cried and cried with all your pent up emotions had to offer until you passed out.

* * *

The sun was not yet in the sky when you gain consciousness. Every move you made set fire to your core and all you could do was close your eyes, feeling the ache. 

Then and there, you contemplated to clean yourself before the servants come. You don’t want them to see the dried essence of your husband on your legs. 

You tapped the knobs and let the water cascade. Luckily, your chambers have exotic oil and minerals to soothe away the ache. Upon reaching the oil, you came across a numbing salve. You were eternally grateful whoever put that salve. Dipping yourself, you let out a groan. You felt your tensed muscles relax. It felt good.

When Ragna came, her face was contorted with a look of surprise. “You’ve already taken a bath, your highness,” she noted.

“Yes, I woke up early.” You made your way to the vanity and sat. A dark purple bruise was painted on your throat when you saw your reflection. You were too preoccupied with the pain on the apex of your thigh that you didn’t even notice him marking you last night.

The mark would be tangible for anyone who glanced along your way. Instinctively, you touched it.

Ragna made her way and started applying powder to your face as usual. Comfortable silence wrapped between the two of you as she adorned and enhance your face.

“Would you like me to cover the mark, highness?” She had a blush on her face as she pointed the dark bruise. You opened your mouth to respond, but a voice suddenly beat you to it.

“No, leave it. It would be better for the people to see that.” You blatantly want to refuse the idea, but he had a point. The bruise signified that the night of your consummation was executed very well. 

Loki’s form reflected on the vanity mirror, he was dressed in a lighter tunic compared to yesterday. The thought that he suddenly popped in thin air without notice by you and your companion impressed you. 

“Is she done?” His question was not directed to you, but to Ragna. 

“Almost, your highness. Just need to paint her highness’ lips and add pins to her braid.” Loki didn’t say any other word, turning his back, he walked to the divan on the side of your chambers. 

Once again, you thanked Ragna when she was done. “I’m ready, your highness,” you called out to Loki.

When you walked out to your chambers, he offered his arm. The gesture was sweet in a way, but his green eyes were cold enough to make you freeze on the spot. You entwined your arm with him. Truth be told, you were slightly startled as to why he came and escorted you. You followed his lead, and stay silent.

*

It didn’t leave his notice that his regal and dutiful little wife was limping along the way. However, she maintained nonchalant expression and kept walking. He chuckled inwardly at her predicament. 

He wondered if she was really a marionette; he had felt that she had no will and emotion at all. She was nonchalant at everything but at the very least she can feel pain. 

He pulled away from his thoughts. He would prefer to break fast with Sigyn on his chambers, but the rumors were already spreading like a wildfire as they spoke— that he maimed his new wife. Well, he couldn’t care any less.

However, he overheard servants gossiping outside his chambers that Odin will likely punish him through Sigyn if he misbehaved. His heart couldn’t bear the thought of her being punished for his transgressions.  If ignoring your unfamiliar wife was a transgression.

That said, he came and collect her like a basket of laundry. The Einherjars they passed along the way greeted them, but he did not return the favor. When they entered the banquet hall, everybody amused themselves by glancing on their direction. He rolled his eyes. People really felt obligated to know every aspect of their lives. 

He saw his mother eyeing his poor wife. Surely, her observant mother had noticed her limping. When her gaze landed at him, he rose his brow.  Satisfied mother?

Most of the guests' gaze lingered at her mark he had inflicted in her throat. This was the entire purpose of his action. Parade her with his mark to appease their prying eyes. Unbeknownst to him, the heavy weight of people's eyes on her made her unsettled. 

They greeted the guest before allowing themselves to sit like a happy couple would do. They ate and talk when spoken to. But Loki didn’t dare speak with the stranger beside him. She was unbearable. He desperately wished that this meal would come to an end already.

“Congratulations on your marriage, brother, milady!” Thor’s booming voice greeted them.

“Thank you, your highness,” she replied, forking the piece of morsel before putting it in her mouth. Meanwhile, he glared at Thor.

“I apologize, my lady. I did not even greet you at your wedding yesterday.” A sheepish smile appeared on Thor’s face. Loki was certain he drank all the mead from the tankard before the wedding even started. “Should I call you sister?”

The oaf’s sudden inquiry nearly made Loki choke on his wine. She glanced at Loki as if silently asking for permission. But when he made no comment. Sensing his disinterest, she spoke.

“Whatever you prefer, highness.”

Loki didn’t wait for his brother’s response and block his hearing. A shiver ran down his spine at the idea of his brother calling her  sister , he hated it— it would remind him that he was married to this girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment! 
> 
> I accept constructive criticism~


	3. III. Talented Thespians I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You see, you closed your eyes. That was the difference. Sometimes you cannot believe what you see, you have to believe what you feel. And if you are ever going to have other people trust you, you must feel that you can trust them, too-even when you’re in the dark. Even when you’re falling.”
> 
> -Mitch Albom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance for the grammatical errors and inappropriate use of words!

The sound of chirping crickets wrapped the entire vicinity. The atmosphere was heavy and nobody dared to utter a single word, let alone move. You stood there, as still as a marble statue, heart hammering against your chest. Your eyes fixed on the floor. The once familiar eyes filled with emotion, now fixed and vacant. The spark wasn’t there anymore.

* * *

_** Hours earlier... ** _

There were simply too many adjectives to describe court life. Exhilarating, intriguing, entertaining, harsh, exhausting, tedious— It was ambivalent and contradictory. However, it was no secret that it is, in fact, suffocating. The endless overdramatic rumors, the feigned pleasantries, the dramas— sometimes a breather or two would be needed.

When you were passing by the alcove, you heard your name being uttered. Two servants were ridiculously whispering and laughing. Eavesdropping, you learned that you were cavorting with a stable boy and the head cook. That you were turned into a frog, snake, grasshopper, and any green animal. And the most ridiculous of them all was that, you were dead after the wedding; and your cadaver was thrown in Mímisbrunnr by Loki himself— and that that you were just an illusion.

You scoffed at the ridiculous rumors, deciding to ignore them.But those nonsensical rumors began spreading like wildfire. The All-father was enraged and that’s why you were currently in an uncomfortable situation. The people were staring at you, whatever errands they had been running completely forgotten.

You and your said husband were side by side under the smoldering heat of the sun. Your right hand was wrapped around his like a newlywed loving couple as you walked around the market.

There was simply too many Einherjar accompanying you, but they maintained their distance. At least, they wouldn’t be up too close to guard you. That would make the situation more awkward.

Loki was proficiently adept at the whole married couple thing, better than you anticipated him to be. He looked regal, warm, and familiar with you in front of the crowd. Living in the court almost all his life made him a great actor.

_ God of Lies, remember?_

The shops and stalls were stuffed with varieties of products from every realm— food, silks, pieces of jewelry, and a whole lot more.  


You were exceptionally taken with a Midgardian pastry. You encouraged Loki to try some, but he just looks at you and the cake with disdain. You were a fool for even trying.You made a mental note not to do that again.

A cloaked hunchback figure blocked your tracks. 

One thick veined hand was jutted from the cloak holding a rough textured wooden cane. There were still twigs and leaves from the said cane.  


You were about to speak when suddenly the figure removed the hood, revealing a face of an old lady. Her silvery white hair was unkempt and tussled like a bird’s nest.

The old lady was trembling, but the cane prevented her from falling. You were about to steady her but Loki gave you a stern look, which can be interpreted as ‘ _Do not_ ’. 

“How may we help you?” You asked politely instead.

The map of lines on her aged face crinkled as she smiled. She slid her free hand on her pocket. “Princess, please allow me to give you this,” she stammered, her voice croaky, almost unintelligible.

In her bony hand was a clear vial of crimson, red liquid. You wondered if it was blood.

“May I ask what is it?”

“A fertility drop. It will help you conceive heirs faster.”

The frigid muscles on Loki’s arm tensed. His frown got deeper, making you confuse. You returned your attention to the old lady.

You weren’t sure if you will have a chance to use her gift. Smiling politely, you took it anyway and slid it to your pocket. 

“Thank you for your generous gift.”

“See you around, princess.”

You had the urge to help the lady return home, but Loki seemed to get irritated with every fleeting second.

He proceeded to walk, almost dragging you along the way. When you turned your head, the old lady was nowhere to be seen.

The loving facade returned to his face once more. You continued your public performance. 

Every now and then, children would be waving their hands and old fellows would bow every time they passed both of you, which you both courteously returned the favor.

Entering a dark alleyway, away from the sea of people flooding the markets, Loki spoke. “Give me that.” Immediately you knew what he was talking about. Reluctantly, you handed him the vial.

The sound of shattering glass perturbed your ears. The small, sharp pieces of glass were lying carelessly on the ground, and the crimson liquid flow straight.

You clenched your hands tightly behind your back. “Why did you do that?”

Loki looked at you with irritation. “You shouldn’t accept gifts from a stranger, did they not teach you that?”

“I know that but it’s impolite to—“

“I do not know if I should admire your politeness or loathe your stupidity,” he mocked, shaking his head. “But know this, there’s a fine line between deferent and stupidity. Don’t be far too trusting, if you want to survive at court.”

A flush of warmth evaded your entire face. You bit your lips and nod your head in understanding. He was right, you were naive.

You continued to roam in the dark alley, changing direction at every turn, you were slightly worried you’d get lost since you were walking deeper— but you didn’t complain and just follow his lead.  


Once light was visible, you examined your whereabouts.

The place was unfamiliar; you didn’t even know a place like this existed somewhere in town. Asgard had copious amount of gold shining almost everywhere, but here, there was none.  


The place was almost devoid of life, hence you and Loki. There were tumbleweeds and you can almost hear the wind due to the silence.

The windows were dusty, the metals were rusty; the structures were intact, but it was abandoned.

“I’ve never been here. What is this place?” You inquired.

“Mørk.” His hasty response made your eyes widen in surprise.

Mørk was originally known for its notoriety. Bandits, murderers, slave traders were said to reside. 

You rose a brow inquiringly. 

Instead of answering, Loki continued to walk on the cobbled, empty streets. You walked behind him. What does he want here?

As you roamed, you swear you heard a cacophony of cries of pleasure. It was not devoid as you expected. Every now and then, dwellers would look at their window peering at you and Loki. 

You swallowed the lump on your throat. 

Every body that dwells here was a criminal and both of you were utterly defenseless. Well, he has his seiðr. But you had nothing.

He halted in front of an old shack. The rusted sign attached on top of the door was creaking eerily. You tried to read the sign, but to no avail, it was written in old runes. Loki opened the wooden door, emitting a small dramatic sound.

You would be lying if you say you weren’t thrilled. The room was full of stuffs not usually seen in regular markets.

“Welcome, I’ve been expecting you, prince,” the old woman in the counter said. You were flabbergasted when you realized it was the same woman who gave you the vial. There was no mistaking it. “First time here, princess?”

There was a playful tone on her voice; it was unlike to the one you heard earlier. Her spine was erect, not hunchbacked. Words didn’t come out on your mouth so you just nod.

“I need a veritaserum,” he said to the old lady.

Instead of addressing his prince, the old lady continued to scrutinize you. Her cracked thin lips stretched.

She bared the semblance of a grin, revealing her yellow stained teeth. You felt a chill running down at your spine. “I see you did not take my gift. I’m disheartened, little princess.”

“I—“

The sudden contact of Loki’s knuckles on the aged, wooden counter drilled a small hole on it. “Do not ignore your prince, old hag. Give me what I want. Now.”

The old lady didn’t even look intimidated, let alone flinch by his sudden fit. Rather, she looked at him mockingly. 

“Ah, I suppose it was you who destroyed it princeling.”

“Proceed to ignore your customers and let’s see what this shop will become,” Loki taunted.

She raised her arms in the air as if she was surrendering. “Just jesting,” she said, still grinning. Suddenly she disappeared, leaving a puff of black smoke in the air.

You roamed your eyes. There were pile of books on the shelf written in old runes, a crystal ball, ominous-looking forbidden jewelries, potions, exotic-looking skulls, body parts, frozen creatures. 

You shivered at the sight.

You put the pieces together. Secluded, Mørk, forbidden things— you were in a black market.

“Here you go princeling.” She suddenly appeared, handing Loki a cloudy vial. When Loki reached for it, with a playful grin, the old lady suddenly retracted her hand that was holding the vial and put it behind her back. “I would give it for free since you’re a regular customer but you threw away my gift.”

Loki sighed and pinch the bridge of his nose. “Name your price.”

“A piece of your wife’s heart.” Sweat broke on your forehead.

She stepped forward and ran her bony, sharp fingers up and down on your sternum. The hairs at the back of your neck stood.

Involuntarily, you took a step backward. You can not fathom whether she’s speaking figuratively or literally. _Did she want to chop a piece of your heart?_

“So, what do you say lil prince? Fine deal eh? Just a piece.”

With her index and thumb, she procured the size. What made it more sinister was due to the grin plastered on her aged face. She was looking at you like a piece of meat.

Loki clicked his tongue. “No.” In your mind you added, ‘ _ As much as I want to .’ _

“Then no veritaserum for you.”

Like a raging volcano, his temper was about to erupt and you didn’t want that to happen. “Is there something else I could offer? Something tangible? Perhaps my earrings? Or anything besides my body parts and internal organs?”

“Well let me think. She hummed while tapping her chin a couple of times. With an ‘O’ shaped mouth and a dramatic gesture of her index finger in the air, she spoke. “A piece of your hair then.” You blankly stared at her. “Don’t worry, just a memento.”

She winked.  


“You have yourself a deal.” You turned to Loki. “Can I borrow your dagger, your highness?”

Without saying a word, he conjured his sharp ornate dagger. The hilt was made of gold. The crossguard had his sigil on it— two-headed serpents, baring their venomous fangs; and at the pommel was gleaming emerald.

You cut a piece of your hair and hand it to the old lady. In turn, she gave you the vial. You, not Loki. “It was nice dealing with you princess. “‘Til next time.”

When you were outside you handed him his dagger and the veritaserum. Why would he need a truth serum?

“That old lady— Who is she?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“A witch who had been exiled from her homeland. Maintain your distance from her; do not get too close. Also, don’t speak what transpired there to a single soul, understand?”

You nodded.

“Good. Now, let’s take a break this whole ordeal is suctioning the life out of me,” he grumbled in vexation. When his back was on you, you rolled your eyes at his dramatic long strides. Were you expecting him to offer his gratitude?

Shaking your thoughts, you decided to follow his lead. Once available to the peering gazes, he prompted you to wrap your arms around his, which you did.

Loki lead you to a tavern. Like any typical taverns, the smell of mead was strong. Laughters, singing, fights, and multitude of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing. 

Both of you sat at the counter as he ordered tankards for both of you. With years of observing him in the shadows, you knew how controlling he can be. So it was no surprise he’d decide what you would drink.

“Drink it,” he ordered. “You will need that for later.”

“Our little performance isn’t enough yet?” As soon as those words came out, you immediately regretted it. 

Loki’s jaw tensed. His green eyes pierced yours with an intensity that was almost murderous. You tipped the tankard on your lips to avoid his gaze.

Once the taste of the mead coated your buds, you nearly gag. It was bitter, sour, and vile in your mouth. It was nothing like the sweet wine you were used to.

“It will get better,” he scoffed. It took you a while to understand his statement. He was referring to the mead. Slowly, you gulp the liquor as fast as you can.

“Another performance will commence. But not ours.” He took a sip of his drink. “Brace yourself.”

Curiosity deterred your mind, but you thought it best to drop the subject since Loki was being cryptic about it; almost unwilling. Besides, you would find out later, he did say brace yourself.

After a while, the taste of mead really did grow on you. You found yourself refilling your tankard.

Both of you sat together in silence, gaze fixed forward. But you were looking at him subtly, from the corner of your eye. 

Over the course, you had more drinks than him. You had lost track of how many tankards of mead you had consumed. 

Loki did not reprimand you, so you assumed he had no qualms about your drinking or he simply did not care. The latter was more plausible.

The room got rowdier. You couldn’t make out what they were saying. A pair of hands suddenly slammed the wooden countertop, making you jerk on your seat. 

The muscular arms caged your body in between. The proximity was close, you can feel his steady breathing on your neck. You were about to swirl around to face the figure and hit him with a tankard until he spoke.

“Prince Loki, I must say, I am rather surprised to see you. It’s been a long time.”

You were startled when you shift your head slightly towards the figure.

Loki looked at him but said nothing. You squirmed uncomfortably on your seat, hoping he’d get your message. “Ah, you must be the princess then.

He removed his hands on the counter and took your wrist to his mouth. He gallantly pressing his smooth lips against your skin longer than necessary. “I must say your wife is beautiful Loki.”

“Norns,” Loki grumbled, rolling his eyes. “What did we deserve to grace us with your glorious presence, Freyr?”

“To visit you and your wife of course.” Loki gave him one of his intense murderous glares. The Vanir prince sighed. “Father assigned me to represent him, since he got matters to attend to. And I got thirsty so I dropped by.”

The once rowdy room became almost quiet. There were two royals in the four-sided room, surely that caught their interest. Freyr took a sit by your side.

“I am sorry I could not come to your union, Loki wife,” he said impishly, looking at you. “I have duties .”

_I have a name._

“It’s alright, your highness,” you responded with a forced smile. 

Both princes converse. You were a barrier, it was awkward. With downcast eyes, you silently listen to their conversation, occasionally sipping your mead in the process.

“I heard your marriage made history. You really are smitten to her.” Freyr laughed. “You really are one of a kind Loki. Pulling that amazing trick, you never cease to surprise me.”

You refilled your drink. “Wow, I’m honored,” your husband mocked.

“Tell me details about your wife.”

You clenched your jaw at his utterance. You were there beside him yet... Did he deem you incapable of speech? Gripping the tankard, you calmed yourself.

“She’s quite alright,” he commented with a shrug. The way he talked indicates that he wasn’t interested about you being the subject.

“She’s quite a drinker,” The other prince added, eyeing you. You were fuming inside. They were talking about you, with you beside them. “Beautiful too. Come on, what else?”

Loki eyed you, scrutinizingly. “Responsible.”

“Hmm?”

“Obedient.”  


You cringed. 

Loki was talking about you like some kind of pet. When you shift your head, you saw a gleam on his forest green eyes. 

The way he described you was more akin to a mere object; a marionette. He kept gazing at you every time he dropped details. 

You pursed your lips as you trace the rim of the tankard. At some point, his voice sparkled with mirth when you shifted uncomfortably on your seat.

“And?”

“She’s tight.” Freyr burst into a loud harsh cackle of laughter and clutched his stomach.

You banged the tankard loud enough causing everyone to look at you. “I see you find amusement debasing women,  _ sires _ .” You gave them a sweet killer smile that reached up to your eyes. “I would appreciate it if you do that without my presence.” You paused. “Oh, right, I’m just a thing anyway; a mere possession, my presence is insignificant. So as my feelings.”

Despite them being a royal, you would never let yourself be trampled like a delicate flower lying on the ground.By the Nornir! They were objectifying you right before their eyes. 

You stood up, pleased to see the surprise on their faces, and turned to walk to the latrine – until he caught your wrist.  


You glanced up and met his gaze, there was something in his eyes— a look of fascination. Ever so slightly, the corners of his lips pulled upwards.

“Let go,  _ Loki _ .” The way you said his name was full of contempt. The mead must have taken its toll. Your vision wavered and the surge of confidence was enough proof.

He proceeded to scrutinize your face for a few seconds. To your surprise he let go, and you stride to the latrine with a hazy mind. You locked the wooden door. 

The tears of humiliation were threatening at the corner of your eyes. They were insensitive, misogynistic, entitled, spoiled brats. This was the second time you cried because oh him. 

You were under no illusion that he will be ever affectionate to you. You knew that when you agreed to this marriage. You accepted you could not be a loving couple. 

But he could at least respect and be civil with you, right? 

Behind the wooden door, his voice called your name, softly. To your utter disbelief, the knot was not working, meaning there was no water to cleanse the evidence of your puffy eyes.

You heard your name being called again.

This time you opened the door, you didn’t know how long his patience would last. Loki was standing.

Every single time, he wore a cloak of regality and prestige in him. There was softness on his features. Perhaps that’s what your mind wanted to see. 

Besides, that look was only reserved for Frigga and Sigyn.

“I apologize,” he uttered out of the blue. “I may have gone too far with that.”

The flood of bitterness surge into your head.“Indeed you have,” you said, between gritted teeth.

Somewhere deep inside, your brain was sending signals telling you to stop talking. However your mouth felt like it had a life of its own and proceeded to court danger.

“That’s very immature and insensitive, highness. Surely, you know better than that.”

A scowl was painted on his face. By Odin’s eye! you were really about to get killed.

“Mind your tongue. I could punish you still for your insolence!” he snarled back. You closed your eyes momentarily and sigh. When you fluttered your lids open, his expression changed again. “Forgive me.”

It’s not like you have a choice. Licking your lips, you nodded.

Looking at the bright side, at the very least you got an apology.

“Come. We have a show to attend.”

With staggering, wobbly feet— you followed the moody prince. You felt lightheaded and every step you take feels like you were slightly leaping.

You continued to walk until your head hit something hard. You were about to pummel the hard wall when a hand caught your knuckles.

Instead of a wall, it was the raven haired prince. He was glaring at you. You grin sheepishly. “Oops.”

With a sigh, he snapped his fingers. The green mist surrounded your head and haziness in your mind ebbed. You were suddenly clear-headed. That’s when you realized what he had done.

“Tha- thank you,” you stuttered with a croak. The moisture in your mouth had gone dry.

“So much for decorum.” His voice was laced with mockery and the warmth on your cheek slightly crept. With that, he turned his back and proceeded to walk.


	4. IV. Talented Thespians II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok,, this chapter is longer that i’d expected. there’s also a lot of dialogues...
> 
> Guides:
> 
> Smár einn- Small One
> 
> Thegn- similar to a baron; holds lands for the King.
> 
> Jarl- Earls; a person with high standing.

The tangerine colored sun sank lower. The air was pleasantly cool, a miracle considering it was summer. You looked at the window. The whole street reverberated with exuberance. Minstrels fiddled their strings, singing ballads— while the people join along.

The rowdiness of the street became silent once Loki stepped out from the carriage. Curiosity mixed with fear etched on the people’s faces as you and the prince walk hand in hand with a couple of armored men behind. Loki’s reputation with the public was not exactly pleasant. They were wary of him because they deemed his presence equivalent to trouble.

You gave them a sweet smile to ease their psyche. In return, they wave at you, almost in a daze. Meanwhile, Loki ignored the people, you can practically hear his mind calling them  peasants.

It was unlike his behavior towards the people in the market. You kept your head high, not in an arrogant way as he. A bearded man oozing with wealth approached you. You greeted the man enthusiastically. “Lord Ødger!”

You removed your hands on Loki and walked towards the said Thegn. You embraced him and he did so in return. When you pulled away, he put both hands on each side of your shoulders.

“Smár einn it’s nice to see you again! Look how you’ve grown. The prankster little girl who put herbal slimes inside my shoes turned into a fine woman, eh?”

A blush crept on your cheeks. “That was half millennia ago, m’ lord,” you pouted.

“Either way, you were a mischievous child, always getting into trouble. And now you’re a princess.”

Unsure how to respond to that, you just chuckled and emitted a light hum. “So how’s married life, your highness?” He queried, his eyes lighted with happiness.

“It’s great!” You kept the enthusiasm in your voice to conceal the truth.

An eminent throat clearing from behind reminded you of the raven-haired prince’s existence. His face remained passive while his hands clasped behind his back.

“Your highness.” Ødger bowed his head and bent one knee to greet Loki.

He waved his hand, indicating the Thegn to stand up. “You honor us with your presence.”

Loki hummed. The Thegn guided both of you to an oak table was laden with roasted meat, cheese, and fruits.

Surprisingly, Loki refused to sit at the end. He chose his sit near Ødger, who sat at the end of the table. As a husband would do to his wife, he guided you on to your sit before he took his. You gave him a smile in return, a genuine smile.

Everyone fell silent when Lord Ødger stood, his bearded face etched with a smile. He raised his goblet in the air, some of the liquid spilled on the ground. “A toast,” he started, “To the abundant harvest, may the Norns always bless us! To prince Loki and his wife for gracing us with their presence!”

The people cheered and those currently drinking raised their goblets and tankards. Once the toast was done, they resumed their activities.

* * *

Halfway through the meal, Loki briefly excused himself for a moment, leaving you on the table with the Thegn and a couple of high ranking guests.

“How’s your father, Smár einn?” He asked. 

“Alive and kicking,” you responded with a light chuckle. 

The man laughed. “I bet he is still obsessed with his swords, eh? That old man polished his weapons to the point where you can even see your face.”

“Ah, yes, father treats his weapons like they are his own children.” Your tone feigned playfulness and exasperation. You bit back a smile at the memory.

“As I said, he is obsessed.” He tipped the goblet in his mouth, took large gulps— and emptied the container. “How’s court life? Are you faring well?”

Questioningly, you rose a brow. “I’ve lived in court almost all my life, my Lord.”

“Young lady, what I meant was: how is court life as a princess?”

You pressed your lips in a thin line. Should you tell the truth?

“All right?” It was more of a question than a statement.

It was his turn to raise a brow. With a sigh, you admitted. “Difficult.”

Being an anonymous daughter of a Jarl and an anonymous lady-in-waiting for the queen was plain sailing. Nobody paid you any mind. Now, your life was everybody’s business.

“Why is that?” He asked.

You raise the goblet into your lips. The rich taste of the wine coated your buds, and you released a contented sigh.

“The fellow courtiers are too enthusiastic to watch our lives like it’s a theater play,” you explained with a loop-sided smirk. He chuckled.

“Don’t mind them. Courtiers tend to do that. They’ll tire of it, give it a millennium or two.” 

He poured wine on his goblet.

“I believe your progenies are coming along, no?” 

That had taken you aback. You pondered how to respond to his inquiry. “Perhaps so.”

He was about to pounce into the subject again, luckily, Loki came in view. 

“Your highness,” he greeted Loki. “I was just asking if your heirs are on their way.”

Warmth evaded your cheeks.

“Heirs are out of the question for now,” he said mellifluously. “My wife and I want to enjoy each other.”

The suggestive smile he gave you sent shivers down your spine. It was fake; all for a show, yet your face was heated.

Ødger laughed with mirth. “Seeing you lovely couples reminded me of my first centuries of marriage. It was passionate. My wife and I couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves.”

“Certainly,” he parroted. It didn’t go unnoticed by you the way Loki tightened his fist. Of course, you were only a wife by name.  You were a plague with his life with Sigyn. It should be her on his side, not you. 

He and Ødger exchanged conversation. Once in a while, the gleeful thegn would include you in their talks. Most of the time you focused on your meal, sipped on your wine, and listened to their conversation.

You dabbed the napkin on your mouth to remove any residuals. A young serving maid approached you and Loki, offering a bottle of wine. The wine originated from Alfheim; it was one of the best wine in all nine realms. Pungent and fragrant.

She offered Loki wine, batting her lashes in the process. He responded graciously with a nod and proceeded to talk with Lord Ødger. 

“Wine, my lady?” 

“Yes, please.”

Once the meal was done, the band of minstrels played a rowdy dancing tune. You looked fondly at the people as they celebrate with glee.

“May I have a dance, your highness?” A young boy asked. You eyed Loki, silently asking for permission. 

He nodded and gave a dismissive wave. The young boy led you to the searing bone fire where the people dance.

* * *

Loki watched her as she made her way towards the dancing crowd. Sighing, he leaned back against the chair. He felt so alone every time he was surrounded by crowds.

He could see smoke billowing into the atmosphere. The soaring heat of the fire along with a couple of bodies in motion made him uncomfortable. He silently cursed his biology. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Thegn merrily talking to a villager. He couldn’t make out what they were talking about because the music and laughter were loud.

When the serving maid came with a carafe of mead, he motioned the girl to come. Immediately, the girl obliged.

“Yes, my prince?” Her sultry voice didn’t escape his notice. She wasn’t exactly subtle, to begin with.

In his younger years, his body would be tangled with a stranger. His voracious appetite made him leap from one stone onto another in mud pools. After he leaped, the stones sink in— and he never looked back.

It was all a quest for him when he and his brother to turn the palace into a brothel. Now, it irritated him that they still perceived him as such.

“Leave the mead.”

The hope in her eyes together with her tone instantly dropped. “But Lord Odger requested it, my prince. If you like I would get you another one.”

“Leave the mead,” he said in a voice that sent a shiver of dread down to anyone’s spine.

He was trying very hard to keep his temper, and if anyone has ever heard anything about him at all, they will know how rarely he does such things. The girl didn’t argue anymore and placed the carafe on the now empty table.

“Girl—” She was about to leave, but he stopped her. “Do not serve your master another liquor, understood?”

The frightened girl nodded, even though his command was a little peculiar.

“Now, leave.”

*

Your heart was pounding like crazy. This was the first time ever since marrying that you felt this happy. The palace, luxurious and humongous as it may was, felt like a prison. You had only left your chambers once in a while, and there was no one to talk to, except Ragna.

Those inconsequent polite conversations, feigned pleasantries— it was tiring the Hel out of you. But you were a nobleman’s daughter, now a princess. It was expected of you to have proper decorum. But here, the villagers were amiable and real. They do not care no matter how you behave.

They did not treat you like a delicate glass or worship your feet because of your status, instead, they treat you like an equal. Like you were one of them. You twirled and twirled, synchronizing your body with the tune. But as time passes, your movements became wild and erratic.

Once in a while, it was good to loose free and have a breather. Once a caged bird was set free, it spreads its wings and glides in the air. You glided with villagers, glided into the beat, and sweat until your heart explodes. When your stamina had its limits, you excused yourself.

You went to the ladies’ room, with the assistance of the serving girl to at least make yourself presentable. When you got back, you keenly searched for the familiar face of a certain prince.

Almost immediately, you spotted a green figure on the dais, drinking with Ødger. He never left his post. The bearded man smiled when he saw you making your way towards them. Loki craned his neck slightly out of intrigue and made a face when he saw it was you.

That made your heart clench. He loathed your very existence.

  
“Ah, “Smár einn, I see you are enjoying yourself.”

“Aye, my Lord. The villagers are amiable,” you responded.

“Care for a drink,” he offered.

You were about to respond ‘yes’ but sudden pressure from the sides of your thigh stopped you from responding.

Loki’s fingers were gripping your thigh, he looked at you with pressed lips and narrowed eyes.

“I think she had enough. She gets inebriated easily,” he said to the thegn. “Isn’t that right,  darling ?”

A mix of irritation and amusement shot through you. The way he uttered the endearment was downright funny, so uncertain. 

But he was ordering you callously over a trivial matter. 

“What do you think of the death of Jarl Baldr?” Loki asked out of the blue, causing your irritation to dissipate, while your ears perched up.

Jarl Harald attempted to overthrow Odin by starting a coup d'é·tat along with some rebels on the eastern part of Vanaheim. 

They were immediately sent to the dungeons to rot until their life’s end. But somehow, he escaped and attempted to bargain with Odin by holding the All-mother captive. Little did he know that the gentle woman will lead to his demise. Month prior to your marriage he was executed along with his cohorts.

The bearded man retracted his goblet from his lips and looked at Loki. “I’m quite saddened by his betrayal, My Prince.” 

Loki emptied the mead from his goblet as well. He twirled his index finger on the goblet’s rim.

“Ah, yes, the saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemy. It comes from the closest one around you.”

The thegn dabbed his beard. “Lord Baldr served the All-father for thousands of years. He was an upright man; his loyalty to Odin was steadfast and to think he’d betray him was... surprising.“

“How about you, My Lord? Are you loyal to the throne? Don’t you detest Odin as well?” Loki’s voice wasn’t exactly hostile but it had a heavy mocking undertone in it.

“Of course there are times I did not agree with the All-father and his deci—“

“Oh, it seems like you ran out of mead,” Loki noticed. He grabbed the carafe to pour mead on the thegn’s goblet but he stopped him.

“Your highness, there’s no need for that.”

“It would appease me greatly if you would, My Lord,” he urged.

“It seems I am at my limit,” LordØdger chuckled.

“I don’t recall you calling it quits until you’re staggering like a mindless fool.” His voice was tight. You can see your husband’s jaw clenched and furrowed eyebrows. 

The mirth in your Thegn’s eyes was present no more. The air was heavy and it was suddenly hard to breathe. That’s when you realized something was off. Was he planning to get him inebriated? Why?

You calmed your thoughts, pushing down the bad feeling in your gut. Perhaps you were reading his actions far too much.

“Old age got the best of me,” he responded while looking Loki in the eye.

“Are you refusing your prince?” Loki arched his eyebrow, his voice tight but still ringing with authority. Ødger fell silent.

Loki used that opportunity to grab the Thegn’s cup. The golden-brown liquor cascaded into the goblet, filling it almost to the brim. He poured his as well. You watch him scrutinizingly his adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he gulped his drink in one go.

“Drink,” Loki instructed and the bearded man warily did so.

“Back to my query.” Loki’s voice was more controlled this time. And you deemed it a good thing.“Do you detest Odin’s reign?”

You bit your lips. What was he up to?

“By the Nornir! No, my prince.” Ødger’s hands were suddenly trembling while his teeth gritted. 

You opened your mouth and asked what is wrong with him. And you immediately regret it. He gave you a calculated look, silently chastising you for speaking out of turn.

That left a pang of ache. You fought the threatening tears from your eyes. But you set it aside. You were mediocre at solving puzzles, but a few things seem somewhat clear. He was planning something, you were certain of it by now. You weren’t going to get in the way.

“Now, answer your prince.”

“I do,” he admitted. There was no mirth in his voice, it was cold as ice. You’ve never seen him like this. “Why are you asking me this?”

Loki moisted his lips as the Thegn narrowed his eyes at him. “You see, I’ve always wanted the throne.”

The gleam on Loki’s eye was evident and you bit your lip. He wanted a throne, he always had. He even committed treason decades ago and attempted to enslave Midgard.

“I am offering you a seat once I rule.” He fiddled his long fingers. It was not an act of nervousness, rather a gesture of cool calculation.

“Prince Loki, are you planning to overthrowing your father?”

Your husband made a face. “Finally, your thick head has caught up,” Loki said mockingly. “What do you say, My Lord, are you going to assist me?”

_Should you alert the All-father?_

“No,” the Thegn replied firmly. Loki did not reply for a moment, as if waiting for something to happen.

“Seems like I have to go on a more direct approach,” he whispered, almost inaudible. “Then, did you ally yourself with Harald?”

The sudden shift of query made your eyes widen.

“No...” His answer made Loki narrow his eyes.

“Then did you assist him with his revolt? With his escape?”

“N-“ before the Thegn could finish, he was clawing his throat. The people didn’t seem to notice what was happening. Or perhaps they do, but ignored it.

“Did you assist Baldr with his plot?” He asked, his temper flaring.

You were startled when Ødger stopped clawing at his throat and clutched his belly laughing hysterically—loud enough to garner the attention of many. The music stopped and they looked at their Lord laughing like an utter maniac.

“Ah, I did. I always have detested that warmonger’s reign. Or anyone from his bloodline!” Ødger removed retracted his hands on his belly.”Are you happy now you bastard?”

“Very much.” Loki stood up with his full height and clasped his hand behind his back. He looked down at him through his nose. “Lord Ødger abused his power and plundered the civilians wealth wealth.”

_Huh?_

“There is also ironclad evidence with his collusion with the coup and attempted assassination by the Queen. I, Prince Loki, with the authority of the All-father, hereby claim you are under arrest!”

Two Royal Guards surrounded him, pointing their weapons at his head. But Ødger persistent squirming caused them to loose their grasp. The Thegn grabbed the sword of one of the guards.

He took advantage of your startled state and attempted to grab you, but Loki was faster. Ødger was suddenly lunging towards Loki with a sword in hand. “You detestable prince! Go to hell!”

Before he could thrust his long, pointed weapon on Loki, the said prince teleported himself and materialized a silver rusted dagger at his hand. Loki tutted in disgust. “You are not worthy to stain even my lowest of daggers.”

Your stomach dropped.

* * *

_ **Present...** _

The sound of chirping crickets wrapped the entire vicinity. The atmosphere was heavy and nobody dared to utter a single word or let alone move.

You stood there, as still as a marble statue, heart hammering against your chest. Your eyes fixed on the floor. The once familiar eyes filled with emotion, now fixed and vacant. The spark wasn’t there anymore.

The silence felt heavy and poisonous. The red liquid was flowing through the floor. It was heading towards you, but you made no move.

A sudden cheer of joy broke every one from their reverie. You looked at the source of the sound and you were shocked to see that it was Ødger’s wife. Not long after, the villagers started cheering as well. You couldn’t believe what was happening.

*

The enchanted burning golden wall scones in every corner fought with the dark, lighting the path of the travelers of the night. The horses were lurching forward and you emit a sigh. You cannot wait for this day to be over.

“Cease your brooding before we make it back. We don’t want another rumor to spark, do we?” He said out of the blue.

Loki’s hands were crossed against his chest and his eyes were closed. You stared at him without getting conscious. His fingers were shaking but his face looks unperturbed.

Pain flares in his head, you knew, it was the side effect of the serum. Gathering your courage, you shifted to his side. You tugged his head and draped it over your lap. He fluttered his eyes open and furrowed his eyebrows questioningly. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Your fingers circled his forehead gently, easing the tension. He was about to protest but you cut him off. “Let me do this, at least.”

If he didn’t stop you from taking the goblet, you would likely be in pain right now. If he didn’t yank you, a knife would’ve pierced you.

“I killed one of your familiar,” he scoffed. You were impressed he still had the ability to speak, despite the pain.

“He deserved it. To think that underneath those saccharine smiles lie a rotten persona.” You smiled sadly. You felt betrayed. You wondered if your memories of him was all a lie. To think that he’ll harm you made heart clench.  _It hurts_.

For a while, you applied pressure in between his eyebrows as you looked at him. His eyes were closed and his hair was sprawled all over your lap.

“If you don’t want don’t want to be betrayed, start doubting the person you want to doubt the least,” he spoke with his eyes still closed.

He was talking from experience.

You threaded your fingers on his scalp, massaging it. His hair was soft, despite its appearance. You noticed his chest was rising up and down steadily.

This man was as such a mystery. He was not an image fully laid out. He was a jigsaw puzzle; you have to put the pieces together, you have to solve him to somewhat understand him.

Perhaps that’s why they fear him. Things you can’t understand are frightening, right?

You cut off your thoughts. You were over-analyzing his character just because he saved you. You wondered if he did that without interior motives. He, after all, said crude things to you earlier. And detested your very being.

Nonetheless, you bit back a smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Istg this story is slowly turning into a murder mystery which is not my intent at all but what can we do it’s court life— there’s betrayal and dramas.
> 
> I was vvv insecure with this chapter it’s too long and there are many boring dialogues. The fact that the characters convo was half-baked only added the fuel.
> 
> I also noticed how inconsistent my writing style is. It changes every chapter lmao. That’s bcs i adapt other authors’ writing style every time i read fics (not completely but there are some points that i had adpted) sometimes i will unconsciously put a line or description of other fics that has been stocked in my head (i know, plagiarism is bad)
> 
> There’s also incredible amount of typos, grammatical errors and sentences that don’t make sense when i tried to read chapter 1-4 but whnvr i try to edit it,, i can’t find them
> 
> ~
> 
> Anyways, please leave a feedback!


	5. V. Meal with the Prince & Sparring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meal with the Second Prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take note: the interaction between the reader and Loki was way way back then (Pre Thor 1) meaning he was not yet w/ Sigyn.
> 
> I hope you like it!

_The ground was covered in thick, white blanket like an unpainted canvas. Sitting on the balustrade, you marveled as the snow started to fall. Luckily, the All-mother casted a spell to prevent the snow from entering inside._

_ A series of knock was heard. You scurried on your feet and opened the thick golden doors. Your eyes darted at the figure of the dark-haired prince outside the chamber. As per usual, he was carrying the cloak of elegance and charm. _

_Gathering the sides of your gown, you curtsied. “My prince.”_

_ Your nose twitched faintly as it picked up on the combination of winter and leather. It was an extraordinary scent yet it felt so nice; the puzzling fragrance stroking your willfulness. It was intoxicating. _

_ “Where is mother?” He queried in a low voice, with an agreeable trace of huskiness and with a hint of authority. _

_“Your majesty was summoned in the throne room just shortly, my prince. She instructed me to relay a message for you to wait for her promptly.”_

_ With your job executed, you curtsied to take your leave but a cold hand snatched your wrist.“Is there something I can do for you, my prince?” _

_He locked gazes with you._

_ “There is,” he said, not relenting to avert his gaze as well as his touch on your wrist. “Kindly bring me sustenance.” _

_“Will do, my prince.” You rescinded your hands and bowed your head as you fled the room. You sauntered to the kitchen and instructed the head cook to prepare a meal for Prince Loki._

_ You walked back to the queen’s chambers with a tray in your hand. Loki was lounging on the divan, eyes close and his leather-clad feet on the small table in front of him.  So much for manners. _

_ You lade the cheese, grapes, other morsels, and wine on the vacant space on the small table, inches away from his feet. You trudged back to look at him only to meet his gaze once more. You bit the inside of your cheek. _

_ “Is there something else, my prince?” You implored and clasped your hands in front. _

_ “Actually there is-“ Seizing the bottle, Loki filled his goblet with wine in a way that’s much more elegant than it has any right to be. “The temperature has been cold for days. Care to warm me up?” _

_ The butterflies in your stomach fluttered. Warm him up? The tone of his voice and expression suggested something else. You shook your deplorable notion away. _

_ “Of course, my prince.” _

_ Licking your lips, you made your way to the fireplace. Gathering small chunks of log on the trunk, you put it on the hearth. _

_ “You are one of my mother’s lady-in-waiting?” _

_ “Yes, my prince,” you responded, not craning your neck. A couple of times your clumsy fingers dropped the match due to the pair of eyes watching your every move. After a couple of attempts, the small fire engulfed the woods on the fireplace. _

_ “Come join me the food is plenty.” Your eyes widened with enthusiasm. Sharing a meal with the prince? Who would pass that honor? But then you remembered your place. _

_ The thing was this. You may be born from an acceptable noble heritage but he was still leagues above you. “I don’t think a prince should share a meal with a mere lady-in-waiting.” _

_ “Are refusing your prince, My Lady?” Loki mused, a slight mischievous grin cracking onto his face. _

_ “No—“ _

_ He chuckled as he poured another wine from the carafe. “Inferring from your previous statement, you are. Is my company unpleasant?” _

_ “My prince, it’s improper,” you defended. “You might get in trouble.” _

_ “I am trouble itself. I do what I want, My Lady,” he said rather proudly. That made you smile, his rebelliousness shouldn’t amuse you but it did. “And I want you to share a meal with me. Who knows, perhaps you planted poison on my meal.” He winked. _

_ You feigned a playful gasp and bite the smile procuring on your lips. “I would never commit such treason, My Prince.” _

_ “Then join me to prove your innocence, My Fair Lady.” Both of you laughed with mirth. _

_ “As my prince commands,” you replied. _

_ The food was rather plenty. Your insides were churning every time Loki asked you something. You swallowed the morsel thickly. _

_ “Here, drink,” Loki mused offering you his wine-filled goblet. There was no point in arguing so you took it. When you were halfway through, the sound of liquid splattering on the floor perturbed your ears. _

_“Oh dear, clumsy me.” One of the corners of his lips twitch. “Would you mind helping me clean this up, my sweet?”_

_ The creatures on your stomach fluttered once more. What was he playing at? You were a lady-in-waiting for the queen. It was not your task to clean the floors. But, he was a prince.  The prince Loki , at that. _

_ There were rumors about him that are unpleasant and you weren’t going to press your luck and prove those rumors. Reluctantly, you nodded your head.“Not at all, my prince.” _

_ Fortunately, a servant was outside the Queen’s chamber when you stepped out. You asked her to bring a washcloth. The servant delivered the washcloth coupled with soap and wanter. On your knees, you scrubbed the sticky liquid trailing on the marble floors. You were reluctant to clean where the trail originated. _

_ “There are splatters here as well, sweet,” Loki motioned with his index finger on the floor. _

_ Suppressing the heat on your face, you dropped on your knees in between Loki’s obscenely splayed legs and worked on the mess on the marbled floor. You were holding your breath. _

_ The position was maddening and his scent only added more. _

_ You let out a slow controlled breath, attempting to loosen your body’s stiff movements and continued on your task. _

_ Loki put the goblet on his lips as he watched you under his nose. The proximity of his crotch and your face was mere inches. And the small organ inside your chest was beating erratically. _

_ You looked up through your lashes. The reddish glint of the fire reflected his alabaster skin. It was a mystery to you why they would think Prince Thor’s looks were superior that of Loki’s. _

_ The two of you locked gazes. His eyes were almost a shade of black. Even if you wanted to avert your gaze, you can’t. You were beguiled by his gleaming eyes. _

_ Prince Loki was utterly breathtaking. His beauty was one of a kind; a beauty you would never tire looking at. For a second or two, your entire body just froze, marveling at the ethereal beauty of the dark-haired prince. _

* * *

The subsequent day after the fall of the traitorous Thegn Ødger, you wrote to your father regarding his betrayal and transgressions.

When Ragna came to your chambers holding an envelope with an all too familiar emblem, you immediately dismissed her. You didn’t open the letter immediately, instead, you took it with you.

Currently, your back was against the rough tree on the Queen’s garden with a letter in hand. With a gentle tug of the emblem, you unlatch the letter sent by your father.

Every word written stirred your mind. He suspected the Thegn mistreating his people, but not his betrayal.  


The millennia of companionship they shared disheartened your father, as he stated. Even though he was a traitor and a plunderer, he was still his friend.

You can’t say the same. You felt betrayed. All you can think was that: all the memories with him was pure deception. Still, there was a part of you that was fond of him.

“Are you okay, My Lady?” A booming voice inquired causing you to revert from reality.

You took notice that your hand was clenched causing the parchment to crumple. Immediately, you crumpled the letter and put it in your pocket.

“I am, your highness.” You smiled at the blonde Prince.

“Please, refrain from calling me that. We’re family now,” he said with a grin on his face. “Call me Brother.”

This was the second conversation you had with Thor regarding the way you address one another.

_ And Brother? _

Loki might lose his sanity if you would. Besides, he doesn’t even see you as part of the family. You chuckled at the thought.

“I don’t think Loki would approve of me calling you Brother.”

“I don’t understand, My lady. Why would he not?”

“I’m a wife by name.”

“But you are his wife? I don’t see why there should be a problem.” 

Thor was squinting his eyes incredulously.

“You’re incredibly thick-headed if you’re not aware, your highness,” you muttered absentmindedly.

The blonde prince's chest started vibrating; he was laughing. You realized what you just uttered. You insulted the crown prince in front of his face.

“Forgive me, your highness. I didn’t mean to,” you trailed off, “insult you.”

But it was true, the courtiers knew Loki’s obvious disdain towards you. Someone who’s not aware of it must be either apathetic or incredibly thick headed.

“No, it’s okay, I get that a lot. How about calling me by my given name, My Lady?”

Calling him  Thor was unimaginable. He was a prince. Crown Prince. Future King. Future All-father.

“No, that would be inappropriate,” you responded. “How about I address you  My Lord instead since you call me yourself  My Lady ?”

“Can’t argue with that. Say, My Lady, care for a little walk?”

He offered his gigantic palms. With a smile, you put your palms against his as you elevated on your feet. Thor was an easy man to approach, unlike Loki. Part of you silently wished he was more like Thor, and almost instantly, you reprimanded yourself. Thor is Thor and Loki is Loki.

Thor was doing most of the talking while your ears attentively listened to his tales regarding his adventures with Loki. You can’t help but laugh every now and then. From his tales, Loki had always been a trickster and you found his nefarious tricks amusing.

Thor was like the sun shining from above. He shone so brightly that sometimes you just have to look away.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent of the gardens. The birds were mellifluously chirping. And despite the balmy weather, the flowers were not decaying.

Thor led you to the gazebo. Heat crept on your cheeks. The image of Loki and Sigyn popped in your min.

“Are you alright, My Lady?” Thor asked with a hint of concern.

“Yes,” you lied.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Your cheeks are flush. Are you sure you’re okay?”

A feigned smile appeared on your lips. “It must be the heat.”

“Do you want to go to the healing room? I can assist you.”

“I am fine, My Lord. Really,” you insisted.

From the gardens, the clashing of weapons was heard. It must have been the warriors on the training ground.

Thor must have heard it as well because he summoned Mjölnir.

“My Lady, please accept my invitation to the training grounds.”

  
“Gladly,” you responded.

*

The warriors were trained well. Slacking was not in their agendas. Leaning against the massive pillars, you hugged your knees as you watched the warriors battling each other. 

Loki was there as well, having a duel with Thor. You noted how different their fighting style was. Thor leaned more on raw power and brute; on the other hand, Loki leaned more with technique and his movements were finesse. 

While Thor was the Sun, Loki was his counterpart. He was the moon— mysterious; shining elegantly, gracing the sky. 

Thor lunged at Loki but the figure instantly faded once he touched it causing him to stumble.You heard Loki snigger and Thor yelling at him for his mischievous tricks. It was hard to avert your eyes at the two princes. They were beguiling and amusing to watch.

By now, they were panting and sweating heavily. You wondered who will end up winning. In the end, their match came to a halt with no victor. Thor called in for a break and they immediately dropped their weapons to take a breather.

Loki headed to where Sigyn stood and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. All the while, Thor was heading in your direction with a smile on his face. 

You got on your feet.

“That was an impressive match, My Lord,” you complimented.

“Thank you, My Lady,” he paused, “let’s spar. I would be honored toteach you.”

One corner of your lips arched.

“Okay.”

Thor and you stood at the training ground. You realized your attire was not appropriate, you might step on your gown.

“Oh right, you’re wearing a dress,” he noted. “Brother!”

Thor’s voice slashed throughout the training hall.

The irritable prince who was peppering kisses with his love craned his neck. The response trickled from the other prince wasn’t verbal, it was physical. His forest eyes  dimmed with irritation.

“Change her attire, brother. I’m going to teach her how to use a sword.”

You were about to intervene but Loki flicked his fingers. The dress slowly turned into a pair of leather pants and leather boots. The tunic was green; his color. It must be reflex.

The upper part was encased with a silver breastplate. And your lower arms were clad with silver bracers. Your braided hair was also pulled back into a bun. 

“Thanks, brother!”

Thor turned his attention to you. He picked up a sword on the ground and tossed it to you. The sword gleamed under the sun. Raising the weapon, you gauge its weight. It was a bit heavy to your own liking.

The training sword felt odd, almost wrong – the was blade too long and wide. The grip was thick as well. It was too big for your liking.

Thor plucked another one on the ground.

“Raise your sword, My Lady,” he demonstrated. “Like this.”

With his raised sword you took your cue. You swung your foreign weapon against his raised one. The weapon on his hand flew sideways. 

The painted surprise on Thor’s face barely caught your eyes. You smiled, satisfied to elicit such reaction from the Prince.

“Fight me, My Lord.”

He picked his sword with lopsided grin.

_The first attack is the most important._

You charged first.

Thor half-heartedly blocked your attack, leaving his side wide open. You pursed your lips.

_Does he think so little of you?_

Exploiting his reluctance, you hit his side with the back of your sword but he didn’t budge a single inch. If it was a real fight, he would be impaled, and bleeding on the ground by now.

With the sword lowered, you looked at your reluctant opponent directly in the eye. “My Lord, is that the best you can do?” 

“You cannot expect me to fight you for real, My Lady. You are a woman,” he responded. 

“Oh. Are you forfeiting because you’re afraid to lose to a mere, frail woman, My Lord?” The taunting on your voice made the prince sea foamed eyes gleam.

*

_The precision with which you can land your next blows will decide the duel._

Your attacks were imprecise due to the foreign sword and it made it difficult to attack continuously. You stepped back and inhaled deeply through your nose. Thor was charging and you took a defensive stance. You blocked the first attack, barely the second. 

You swung your sword with no great plan in mind. Just swinging it absentmindedly at Thor. You were on the losing streak here.

“Are you okay? Should we take a break?” Thor queried. You frowned but instantly reassured yourself that he’s just concerned.

“No.”

For a while, the sword in your hand had adjusted. You smiled slightly. It felt lighter now that you had accustomed to it for a while.

Hesitantly, Thor attacked again, nearly making you fall on the ground due to his immense strength. You knew his strength was incomparable. But there was a way to make up the lack of strength.

Technique and speed.

You charged at him fast. Thor barely dodged to the side. You continuously trade blows and the hesitance on his face dissipated. The blonde prince raised his sword, only to be met by yours. The series of resounding clash of swords slashed the whole training grounds.

Every offense he made, you countered it back. Your heart was pounding at a rapid pace on your chest. And you were panting heavily. 

Nonetheless, you were exhilarated.

You tuck the fallen strands of tour hair behind your ear and wiped a smear of sweat off your forehead. Once more, you surged forward.

You waltzed on the arena. The exchange of blows overwhelmed you. You were fighting toe to toe with the mighty Thor. Though, you knew you’d get instantly crushed if he used his beloved Mjölnir. 

Thor’s attacks were predictable. He was moving out of instinct and attacking with sheer strength. Power, not strategy and technique. 

You wondered how duel with Loki would? Full of calculations and smarting out each other. You were lost on your trance and you didn’t see the attack coming causing Thor to wretch the match. 

“You’re spacing out,” Thor commented.

“Forgive me. Let’s try again.”

With more vigor, you attacked again. This time Thor was taken off guard. Both of you were heavily drenched with sweat at this point.

Stamina wise, you were inferior. But you weren’t going to step out the training ground with two consecutive losses.

From behind Thor, your eyes caught something glistening under the summer sun. Baiting, you swung your sword and rapidly switched positions. He aimed his sword and you ducked, picking the dagger on the floor.

When your swords met, the dagger on your non-dominant hand pointed directly at his chin. As you envisaged, he focused his attention on the small, sharp object.

_Checkmate_ .

With that, you strike him hard on his solar plexus with the pommel of the sword. He grunted and coughed. Surely he can handle that; he’s a warrior after all. You giggled.

“I won,” you declared.

“No fair. You cheated, there’s no honor in that,” Thor pouted like a child. 

It made you laugh.

“There’s no code in battles, is there? All that matters is the victor.” You smirked, the sense of gratification in your veins inflating. “Besides, a corpse can’t talk and it cannot certainly complain whether its opponent chooses to do tricks.”

“But still, I would fight with honor.” His jolly smile returned. “It’s cowardly to cheat.”

You shrugged. You don’t want to hear Thor to rhapsodize on the virtues of bravery.

“Can’t argue with that.” 

Unbeknownst to you, there were crowds and they were cheering after your duel. Good thing you put up a promising fight, lest you wanted to be a laughing stock. Thor’s cohorts—Sif and the Warriors’ Three were waving their hands. 

Your eyes immediately scoured for Loki, he was watching as well. You didn’t know why but that made you happy. You look at the ground, biting the smile threatening at your lips.

“I didn’t know you can fight, Your highness?” Volstagg inquired with interest.

“If you have a father who’s tremendously in love with blades, expect his children to be familiar with blades.”

“That was spectacular as ever, Your highness,” Fandral greeted. “I cannot say for the last part though.”

Fandral was one of your father’s apprentice back then. He was of noble blood as well, but he chose to be at your father’s service to hone his skills. You and him would have duels back then. When he was old enough, he came to the palace and made his own name.

“Thank you.”

A green mist of smoke surrounded you instantly replacing the sweaty armor into your earlier clothing. Thor’s mouth was slightly ajar, and you find it comical.

“You knew?” Thor asked with a hint of enthusiasm in his booming voice.

Smiling faintly, you replied, “I tried to tell you.”

Your muscles were aching, it had been a while since you had a sparring session. You decided once you enter your chambers, a bath would be the first thing you would do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so so happy i am finally through with my online classes omg! and i am finally done with high school!! the sad thing is that: there’s no ceremony due to the pandemic :((
> 
> The sparring scene was based on Geralt and Renfri’s fight.. it’s such a waste they killed her off. She is vvv cool 
> 
> and yepp,, Loki is a sneaky adorable snake who’s trying to seduce the reader. Tbh, there’s no actual plot in this chapter. Just a lil bit of getting to know more abt the reader.


	6. VI. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter she may suffer—both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams.”
> 
> Bram Stoker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: misogynist & sexist language.
> 
> PLEASE TAKE TIME TO READ THIS: I changed **Harald’s** name to **Baldr** since I want to stick up more with the original norse characters. 

Adrenaline pumped through your veins with each fleeting second your vision enveloped nothing but inky darkness.

The hairs at the back of your neck stood. This was not the kind of comely dark you were habituated to. This was pure darkness, like you were staring at the void itself.

You took a step forward.

The sharp stones shifted, hurting your sole one way and then the other, and the noise of those disturbed rocks echoed off the dense stone walls.

You opened your mouth, but no sound emanated from your throat, it was as if your vocal cords were cut off.

Venturing deeper and deeper, your ears perched at the sound of faint liquid dripping against metal.   


The absence of light heightened your hearing and you seize that advantage.

The drip became audible. Ignoring the ache on the sole of your feet touching the solid ground, you perpetuated. 

One foot from the other, then suddenly a sharp stone stabbed your toe, and the gush of liquid moistened your foot. 

The idea of tending your injury was the best course, but you saw a beacon of light.

With staggering, unrefined steps—you ran. The elation of the new found light made your thoughts unguarded.

You came across a frigid pool of sticky liquid. But it was no regular liquid, it was as if it was fire itself. You cried in agony as you felt the flesh of your feet melting off, but no sound emanated. 

You wanted to leave the wretched place. With tears cascading down your face, on all fours, you followed the light. 

Your palms and knees were bruising, still, you kept going. The pain was more bearable than staying here in the dark after all. 

Just a few more and you’ll reach the beacon. With a flash of lightning, at the corner of your eye, you perceived a nude figure on the humongous boulders; limbs shackled and a venomous creature above— but it instantly faded out.

Perhaps you were hallucinating.

The feeling overwhelmed you and your breathing became unsteady as the proximity lessen. In an instant, the beacon moved. It wasn’t the work of your imagination after all. The light illuminated the figure

It was a male figure, and he was really shackled. 

The only thing your mind can conjure was: _Where were you? Who was that? Why were you here? What will become of you?_

You tried to discern his face. He seemed familiar but you cannot recall. You bit your lip in frustration. You knew him. 

But, who was he? You cannot recall his name. As the serpent’s drip reached his face, a deafening scream echoed the entire place.

You wanted to help, but you cannot move; you were paralyzed. Salty hot drops cascaded down your cheeks. 

From then, a figure of a woman with a raised golden bowl stood beside him. You fluttered your eyes closed.

When you opened your eyes, you were in your chambers. An open book was laying over your lap. You touched your face but there was no sign of tears. 

The ambience was tranquil, too tranquil actually. You scanned your chambers.

Every furniture was in the wrong place like it was adjusted by an inch or two. It felt wrong. And the size of your bed and the design, it was so different. 

You were about to go outside but the mammoth door bolted open.

With long strides, the dark haired prince made his way and yank your hair. You shrieked, he was pulling your hair from its roots.

There was something in his hand but your ruffled hair prevented you to see it.

Loki straightened his hold and yank your hair back. He closed the distance; mouth to mouth and chest to chest.

Then you felt a sharp pain. The metallic taste of fluid coated your buds and you pulled out of the kiss. 

In his hand, his two-headed serpent dagger was coated with red fluid. You stared at him with horror. He grinned with blood on his teeth.

“Why?”

Beads of sweat ran down your forehead. Your heart beating fast and there was a buzzing in your brain. Warily, you scanned your surroundings. 

Everything seemed fine. 

The furnitures looked intact. You eyes caught a silhouette in the corner of the room. You frowned. The figure surged forward and stood at the foot of the bed.

“Why are you here?” There was asperity in your tone that could cut edges.

“I heard a sound, My Lady so I bolted inside,” Ragna explained. “It seems like you’re having a nightmare.”

Your eyes remained fixed on her. She waved her hand, garnering your attention but you were lost in your trance.   


“My Lady?” She held your hand and gasped. “You’re cold. Please wait a moment, I’ll prepare some hot tea.”

When she came back, she laden the porcelain tea kettle on the round tea table and arranged the dainty cup and saucer. 

The golden brown hot liquid cascaded into the the saucer, filling it almost to the brim. Clasping the dainty porcelain cup, you took a sip.

Then the massive candelabrum lit up, alleviating your turmoil.

“Forgive my tone earlier. Please take a seat,” you requested. You offered her the tea she made. “Help yourself.”

“It is improper, My Lady. I am just a mere servant.” Her response evoked a smile on your face.

“I insist.”

“I don’t drink tea, My Lady,” she said with a small smile as she clasped her fidgeting hands.

“Then at least take a sit.”

She complied tentatively.

“What time is it?” You asked, as you sipped your tea.

“An hour before midnight, My Lady,” Ragna responded. You looked at her intently.

“You were dismissed early,” you pinpointed.

With downcast eyes, she spoke. “I was g-going to the k-kitchen to eat but I heard a sound.”

“Have you eaten then?“

She smiled sheepishly. “I already have, My Lady.”

You blew the smoke. Putting it in your lips, you took another sip. 

The bitter, yet sweetly flavorful taste of the tea coated your buds. You let out a satisfied hum. “This tea is delicious.”

“Unquestionably, My Lady.” She nodded with a toothy grin. The young girl started rambling about the origins of the tea leaves and how exceptional they were.

“No, I’ve had this before,” you said, staring at the half emptied golden brown liquid. “It’s not quite good as this. What did you put it in?”

A blush crept on her face. “Honeysuckle, milk and berries, My Lady.”

Her response was whispered, soft and faint, like a confidential conversation puffed out between just you and her, uncarried by the wind to the prying ears.

That night, when you were left alone, your eyes were focused on the ceiling while hurricane of dread flooded your mind and sleep will not come knocking any time soon.

* * *

It was already late afternoon. Today was the first time Asgard held a council meeting since Jarl Baldr’s public execution. 

Despite their composure, the councilors were on edge. Who wouldn’t? Two former members had their bodies gone cold.

The All-father, of course, sat impeccably impassive and accumulated on the Hliðskjálf. If he was frustrated, he gave no designation.

“My Liege, the Bifrost should be off-limits to facilitate our people’s mind,” Lord Hǫðr suggested in a gruff tone.

“I stand for no. If Hǫðr’s proposition is to be implemented, the Tradings would stop as well. Asgard’s economy will decline—” The councilors were heedfully listening and waiting for Lord Vali to integrate more. “It will degrade comforts and quality of life significantly that will either cause a more preponderant stir for the commoners— and the nobles as well. Apart from that, tradings are an integral part maintain cognations to other realms.”

_ It was true, tradings kept the nine realms under control but... _

Hǫðr opened his mouth. “The people are in constant fear because the traitorous Jarl and those barbaric Vanir—“

“Choose your words wisely. I am warning you,” The Vanir Prince threatened, teeth gritting and jaw clenched.

Another series of tension emerged around the Great Hall. “What if the remaining rebels decided to attack if the Bifrost is left open?”

You eyes darted at the figure across from you. Like his father, Loki remained impeccably vigilant with his crossed arms.

The memory assaulted your mind again, cruelly until you submerged. You shuddered as if a hundred needles prickled your skin.

A poke on your shoulder blinked you out of your pensive thoughts. Someone cleared a throat.

Lord Hǫðr who had been speaking for quite some time, was glaring at you.

“My Lady, this is a consequential council meeting,” he said calmly, but there was an undertone of mock in his voice. “If you cannot follow better for you to just leave.”

Heat crawled on your face. You felt foolish. Complete utter fool. They were in the middle of a dispute while you were turmoiled by a ridiculous nightmare.

“Mind your insolent tongue, My Lord. Is that how you should address your princess?” A deep interrupted. You looked at the source and you were quite shocked. “I didn’t know Asgardian nobilities were so impudent to their betters.”

“Forgive me, My Prince,” Lord Hǫðr apologized, truly contrite.

“Apologize to Your Highness,” The envoy Prince from Vanaheim said.

“Your Highness, I apologize for my behavior.”

You wanted to tell him it was fine; that it was your fault. But you do not optate the subject to lingering further.

“As we were saying, Your Highness,” Freyr said, looking at you. “Do you concur that the Bifrost should be off-limits?”

You took a breath and put your thoughts into words. “Are there any denotement that Lord Harald and the revolters traveled via Bifrost?”

There was a deafening silence as if all the noise had ceased.

“As claimed by Heimdall, there were no denotements utilizing the Bifrost by Harald and his cohorts,” Loki spoke for the first time, face resolutely unimpressed and breaking the silence

“Why are you saying that now?” Thor asked furrowing his eyebrows. “You should have told us sooner.”

The trickster smirked. “Oh, Where oh where is the fun in that?”

“My Lord Prince, you find this precarious matter fun? Asgard is on the brink of civil war!”

Loki remained impassive. 

“And may I add, you, publicly executing the Thegn without trial created a disturbance amongst the nobles,” Lord Víðarr added.

“I believe it is stated that any attempt on Royals should be exterminated without a second thought,” you sapiently countered, and added as an afterthought, “My Lord.”

“Highness, he was a Thegn. A noble; not a commoner.”

_Ah, there it was._ There are arts in politics and number one is to maintain power. Yet too power brings the worst out of an individual.

The laws are arbitrary in this realm. You wanted to speak, but you did not dare add salt to the wound. You had spoken out of turn already.

The loud clang of Gungnir hitting the marbled floor echoed in the vast hall making everybody silent. The All-father made his decision and that concludes the meeting.

Víðarr, who you brusquely interrupted was glaring at you. “Your Highness, may I have a word, please,” he said to Loki.

You were walking in the hallway when Freyr came up running.

“My Lady,” he greeted. You still on your step and addressed him with a feigned and perfectly polite smile. “Ah, it seems like the Lady is unwell today. Oh well-“ he shrugged. “It will not take long before we see each other again. See you soon, My Lady.” He bowed.

Not long after you returned to your chambers, Loki barged inside without preamble, startling you and Ragna. 

His face remained impassive. He sat on the chair in front of you, both his arms were reposed on the sides of the armrest. “Leave us,” he said to the young servant.

Albeit you don’t want her to depart, you couldn’t do a thing about it. When the door closed, your heart commenced hammering in its cage.   


This silence was oppressive and it integrated more to your trepidation.

“You spoke out of turn.” Although his demeanor was serene, it didn’t settle your swirling thoughts.

“If you’re here to punish me, don’t stall any further.” To conceal your trembling, you interlaced your fingers. 

His impassive expression quickly morphed into a glee. Every fibre of your being told you to run, but you sat perfectly still waiting for your punishment.

“Get in bed. On your stomach. Face down.”

You could scarcely breath. Tears threatened to fall from the corner of your eyes. You shifted on all fours on the soft mattress before lowering your legs and arms.

Yanking the sheets, you elusively used it to cover your eyes. You laid for a minute but nothing happened.

You silently cursed at him. 

The anxiety of making one wait for their punishment to come was abominable cruelty.

It was a fleeting moment, a passing second filled with silence, anticipation and worry. 

Mirth of laughter echoed throughout the room. Bewildered, you peeked from the sheets.   


Loki was laughing, genuinely laughing. You sat up and leaned on the headboard.

Your reaction was a mix of relief and irritation. Although the latter was more dominant. He didn’t cease his laughter just yet and the urge to throw a pillow at him was tempting.

“You should have seen your face, My Lady,” he teased.

“It’s not funny.”

He snorted. “You wish.”

You took a deep breath and rolled your eyes. “Why are you here, Sire?”

Still grinning, Loki motioned you to sat to where you previously where before. Straightening your back with hands over your lap, you silently waited for him to begin.

“It is unbecoming of a Lady to speak out of turn,” he started, “Do you want to know what the Lord has said after you left?”

In truth you don’t want to, but nodded anyway.

“That you, should not be on court. That I, your Lord husband, should clip your wings and lock you in a cage. And you will only be mine, a warm body to return to every night and fatten you with my seed.”

The pulse in your body increased speed and your stomach churn at his words. Involuntarily, your nose scrunched like you had swallowed a whole drink of citrus.

“Crude and Misogynistic words from a  wise Lord, I must say.” Your voice was dripping with acid. 

Sometimes you yearned that you were not born as woman especially in a realm wherein patriarchy rules.

“Don’t listen to them, they are narcissistic old fools. Anyway, that’s beside the point-” Loki trailed off as he met your gaze. The old fool compared you to a bird— andthat’s beside the point? “What’s perturbing you?”

“The fact that I am seen nothing more that a property,” you flatly replied without filter.

“But you are my property.”   


With burning eyes, you stared at him. Your hands balled out over your lap, crumpling the soft silk of your dress. You knew  that, but  to hear someone say it out loud sounded wrong.

“Rest assured, I don’t like the prospect of it either. Now, tell me what’s perturbing you.”

With a sigh, you calmed yourself. Was the punishment part a prelude to reveal your thoughts to him?

In response, you shrugged. Loki smacked his lips together. “Tell me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you responded in a low voice. Loki widened his stance and straightened his back, scrutinizing you with narrowed eyes.

“You were glaring at me during the council,” he said, voice dangerously smooth. “You always keep your gaze downcast or look straight ahead as if I’m invisble. Answer me.”

Awkwardly, you cleared your throat.

“It doesn’t concern you, My Lord.”

“Do not lie to me.” The tone of his voice suggested that he was losing his minuscule temper. “Tell me or I will truly punish you.”

The palm of your hands started sweating and tour mind was racing mile a minute.

“I dreamt of you last night.” Stopping for a moment, you looked at his reaction but he prompted you to go on. “A nightmare, to be more specific.”

“Elaborate.”

Lying was not an option, he would tell certainty notice it afore the words emerged from your mouth.

“I dreamt of darkness. It felt like I was in the void, but that was not it. I assume I was in a cave. Then the scenery changed, I was back in my chambers. You barged in like you did a while ago-“ his lips twitch remotely at that. “Then, you pierced my heart with your ornate dagger.”

Not wanting him to think you were a pervert, you left the part where you saw a nude shackled man and the part wherein your lips made contact.

“That’s it?”

You nodded.

“You were anxious because you thought I will kill you?”

Partly, yes. What worried you was that it felt realistic; the darkness and the pain. But you just uttered “Yes.”

“My Lady, if I intend to kill you, we would not be conversing here right now,” Loki reassured. “I would’ve given a piece of your heart, or more likely, your cadaver would be rotting inside Mímisbrunnr.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **We all know who that shackled man, right? I have limited knowledge regarding economy so I’m sorry if I got it wrong. I noticed how much the reader is spacing out which is a lot. Haha. I hope you like this chapter!**


	7. VII. Behind the Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If we’re wrapping ourselves up to conceal any vulnerability, whatever happens to us has to go through all those extra layers. Sometimes love doesn’t even reach where we truly live.
> 
> -Alexandra Katehakis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh, I’m unsatisfied with the outcome of this chap since my mind can’t seem to focus on writing ‘cos I am still raging on how incompetent the government is in my country. 
> 
> Seriously, prioritizing the implementation of Anti-Terrorism Bill in the middle of a pandemic? Instead of prioritizing health care? Hah. 
> 
> We all know that the basic justice principle is ‘innocent until proven guilty’ but with this Anti-Terror Bill ‘you are guilty until you prove yourself innocent’. I— 
> 
> Also, criticizing the government can even get you to jail. They are taking away our right to voice our thoughts. Omg!! ACTIVISM!! IS!! NOT!! SYNONYMOUS!! WITH!! TERRORISM!! 
> 
> Do you see how fucked up this is?

Summer was coming to an end. The musky, fresh smell of earth permeated the air as little raindrops serenely poured outside, quenching the parched ground.

It was a perfect day for writing. You went to your usual spot at the library, near the window, and laden your writing materials.

The sight of Höðr, conversing silently with Bragi, obscured your vision. The weight of his words flamed your nerves like poison until now. And continuously fueled by merely looking at him.

Three tables across was Lady Sigyn, completely taken with her reading. This was the first time you saw her without Loki’s company.

She lifted her head demurely, meeting your gaze. Her lips bridled with a bask smile. You returned the favor. A sharp tight-lipped that doesn’t meet your eyes.

Grabbing the pen, you began to scribble fatuous words. An image of Loki unceremoniously popped.

The day he came to your chambers, Loki’s glowing index finger sucked the whirlpool of turmoil inside your head.

Your stupefied state prevented you to emit words of gratitude. Perhaps you’d write him a letter or poem.

Loki would make an interesting subject. You mused his personality; the one you first handedly experience.

Complex.

Temperamental.

Insanely Smart.

Charming.

Endearingly capable of great tenderness.

Thespian.

He portrayed himself cruel and callous and yet, there's something that exists within him, something in an occasional flicker of light that speaks of the finest snippets of tenderness.

So lost in your thoughts, you did not even notice when that the rain had stopped.

Would he read it? The question more likely falls to: would you have the courage to give it to him?

_A problem for another day then._

Gently, you stood to search for a book. An opened black-leathered book with brown pages was sprawled on the floor.

A breathy whisper coming from the deepest crevices of your heart made you halt. There was something alluring about the book.

The fact that it was from the forbidden section was enough answer. Warily, you proceeded on your tracks.

Realization hit you as you stepped a foot inside. The section was not barricaded. The rough leather met your fingertips. Skimming the pages, you discovered that it was written in old runes.

The images were grotesque, at the very least you can infer something.

The sudden sound of rustling papers outside alerted you. Once caught, princess or not, a punishment will be imposed.

Not only your name will be tarnished, but Loki as well. Your actions reflected on him. It was an unspoken rule amongst royal consorts.

Hugging the book tightly, you sidled your way out. There were few servants who saw you, but they didn’t look suspicious.

A hitched breath came from your throat and you abruptly froze.  Loki was lounging in your chambers. “Where were you?”

“Library,” you responded hastily.

“Come and sit.” His voice was calm and low.

After placing the book on the nightstand like it was a perfectly normal book, you sat across him.  _ Of all days, why today? _

“Why did you place the book there? I want to see what kind of literature you were into.”

“But I thought you wanted to discuss something,” you quipped softly, almost inaudible.

Loki hummed and strode elegantly to the nightstand. With hazy, untroubled mind, you pondered a way to divert his attention. “Shouldn’t you be with Lady Sigyn?”

Loki narrowed his eyes.

_Wrong move._

“You’re purposely changing the subject,” he commented.“Tell me, what are you hiding?”

Sprouting lies was out of the question. He would detect it. Better tell the truth before he found out himself.

“The book— It was from the forbidden section, I saw it lying on the ground.”

He stopped on his tracks and languidly craned his neck to look at you. “You passed through the barricades?” His voice was not laced with anger but disbelief.

You let out a relieved sigh. Loki continued to saunter and grabbed the book.

“It was not barricaded, Sire,” you explained.

Loki returned to his seat with the book in hand and knitted his brows. His intense gaze bothered you. But you fought to maintain eye contact.

“Believe me, I too, was surprised to find myself inside there.”

“You did say the book was lying on the ground.”

His attention focused on the book, studying every detail with his intense forest green eyes.

“Speak to no one about this, understand?”

With knitted brows, you nodded.

“What? You think I will tell Odin or reprimand you?” He asked.

“To be honest, yes.”

“My Lady, I, myself, had access to the forbidden section many times now,” he admitted with a grin.

You were not surprised. Loki wasn't one to be bound, to be restrained and held down. He loved to exercise his freedom and cross limitations. It was a rush for him, an addiction even, that left him thriving for more, a never ending craving. 

It wasn't defiance that inspired him, but it was what defined him: the mischief, the troublemaker.

“However, if you were caught severe punishment would be inflicted upon you.”

Guiltily, you fiddled your fingers.

Without any more pretense, Loki announced what he initially came for.

“Fertility Festival,” you parroted in a flat voice. It makes sense that you’d represent the realm. You were a newlywed couple after all. “Where will it be held?”

“It’s undecided yet. But certainly not Asgard,” Loki responded and shifted on his sit. “But I have speculations.”

And you have as well.

* * *

A boisterous chortle in the hallway got your attention. It was Thor and his companions. The encounter resulted you to find yourself in the drinking solar.

You wanted to excuse yourself and seek the comfort of the gardens, to spend the night in solace but it would be rude to reluct their offer.

“I never took you to be adept with weapons, My Lady,” Lady Sif said as she plopped herself beside you.

A diminutive smile grew on your lips, realizing The Lady Sif was starting a conversation with you.

“I don’t,” you answered. Sif quirked a brow. “I am only adept with swords and daggers. I can’t swing axes and spears.”

“How old were you back then when you trained with swords, My Lady?” This time it was Volstagg who asked.

There was a wet spot on his ginger beard from his excessive, brutish drinking.

“I started at a very young age,” you replied succinctly. You cannot exactly recall when. But, you remembered it as clear as crystal why you did.

_ To protect yourself and to not always rely on anyone _ , as your father said.

“We always have duels back then,” Fandral added. “I always won, by the way.”

Nostalgia hit you. The bond you shared, the closeness and the banters after training. Then it all drifted apart faster than it built up. 

“Speak for yourself.” You smirked.

“I am impressed. It’s so rare for a lady to even wield a weapon,” Sif admitted. “You should train with us sometimes, My Lady. You have talent.”

A great past time, but it’s not what you truly desire. In response, your lips curled— which could be interpreted either as yes or no.

Finally, the subject dropped. You poured mead on your tankard. It came to your notice that Loki wasn’t here.

You scanned the solar, there were inebriated guards, still drinking, but you did not see Loki.

“Are you looking for someone?” Fandral asked, whisking you away from your wandering eyes.

“Why is Loki not here?” You asked.

“Why are you looking for him?”

_ Don’t answer my question with a question. _

Your brow arched as you look into his orbs. “Because he is your friend.”

Fandral laughed as if you just uttered the most ridiculous thing. “Prince Loki doesn’t have friends, My Lady.”

Your mouth pursed.

“He is a trickster and master manipulator.” This time it was Sif who responded. “He cut my hair when we were young, let the Jutons in to stop Thor’s coronation, enslaved Midgard— really, there’s a lot more, it would not take one night to list the things he’d done.”

“There, you have your answer. He is downright evil and power-hungry,” the master swordsman added.

Your shoulders slumped and a bitter tug on your lips materialized. They were Thor’s friends; not Loki’s.

“Have you actually given him a chance?”

With a sigh, Sif confronted you. “Look, My Lady, if you are having doubt or felt bad about Loki. Don’t. He’s a snake. He might be kind but it is a facade. If you are at your weakest, if he gained your trust, he will strike.”

“I agree. Imagine my surprise when the news came out that you’re gonna marry him, knowing how badly things go when he is angry. I was fairly certain that he’d abuse you-“ Fandral fell silent. “Does he?”

“Of course not,” you responded.

Loki had a temper, but he never tried to harm you. Physically, at least.

“I don’t think he is anything like that.”

“What is this new found love for the trickster?” He chuckled sardonically.

It was your turn to chuckle. The notion of harboring romantic feelings for Loki was silly.

Though, an unspoken camaraderie had developed between the both of you since the book incident.

Every time you saw Loki, you’d flash him a court smile, and in return, a faint curve on his lips would procure.

Every positive thing Loki did, you told Fandral— how prevented you from imbibing the serum down to alleviating your turmoil.

And almost blurted the book part.

“He didn’t do it for your sake. If anything happened to you, he will be accountable... Remember My Lady, you ruined his life.”

Fandral’s blunt words processed heavily inside your mind.

“He hates you.”

The fruits no longer had a taste, the saccharinity and the sourness not registering on your tongue. You were merely eating as an excuse not to engage any more conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Vali, Hodr, Baldr, Bragi are Odin’s sons in Myths (incase you didn’t know) 
> 
> We finally reached 1k+ hits and 100+ Kudos! Thank you! As an amateur writer, your support genuinely warms my heart :’) 
> 
> Also, I finally figured out where this fic is going. Hooray to me! I just hope that I could write it as vividly as my mind conjured it. 
> 
> Please leave a comment. I accept constructive criticism~


	8. VIII. Fertility Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let me carry your burden Come tomorrow you'll be right as rain In a quench of fire wash away your stain 
> 
> -Foy Vance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response on the last chapter is unbelievable. 
> 
> Thank you so much :’)
> 
> Hoping you’ll like this one too.

Cotton blanket of grey engulfed the velvet blue sky. Huginn and Muninn flew on invisible strings, trailing the thundering gallops that distilled the silence.

The white of your knuckles became apparent when the mare’s hoofs touched the Rainbow Bridge.

The vivid million color specs were better than you envisage. The desire to hop off the mare, and feel it with your own flesh was tempting.

Besides, not many Aesir have the privilege to travel via Bifrost after all, let alone set a foot.

Though, it didn’t stop the butterflies swarming in your stomach. That had been an occurrence as of late. Even frivolous matters sent you on edge— like your appearance and behavior.

“We’re here,” Loki announced in a low, calm voice. Adroitly, he unmounted the colossal stallion. Its mane was like its owner’s hair— ebony strands of hair like pools of the purest ink.

An elegant hand gradually hoisted on your side, palm facing up. With sweaty palm, you clasped it and sidled off the mare.

_ He’s a snake.  
_

_ It’s all a facade.  _

_ Do not trust him.  _

_ He will betray you at your weakest. _

Musing about it, Loki’s callous words did leave an impression, but he also showed you kindness in his abstruse ways.

The two of you walked hand in hand inside the Observatory. The All-Father’s gruff, aging voice caught your attention. He stood on the dais along with Frigga and Heimdall.

Like a broken machine, the All-father addressed proper demeanor once setting foot on the realm. With nails dug on your wrist, you endeavored to absorb his words.

“Your lids are dropping, My Lady.” The lingering steady breath ghosted into your ear.

A diminutive smile procured on your lips and you slightly leaned away.

“I am sure I heard you yawn, My Lord.”

Loki procured the tiniest of smirks to grace his lips. “I suggest you visit the healers. Your hearing might be impaired.”

“Then I suggest you might as well go since your eyes are impaired,” you quipped, biting the growing grin on your face.

A gruff clearing of throat caught your attention before Loki could speak.

The All-father shot the two of you a look. Warmth crept onto your face. You dissolved all diversions and focused.

The Observatory was silent for a while hence for the long-drawn speech of the All-father.

Then it started. Loki and Thor were exchanging repartee.

A bubblehead furry, ivory white feline replaced your husband’s familiar face. On top of it was Thor’s traditional silver helmet.

“Loki, I would ask you to stop being Cat Thor,” Thor said, narrowing his eyes and slightly cringing.

A mirthful snigger escaped Loki’s throat. “Not on your life.”

Never once did you see the All-father breaking character until this point.

He looked exasperated. You bit your tongue to prevent a grin. It reminded you of  _home_ .

“This is what I’m talking about. You have not yet set foot on your destination and the two of you are on it again.”

A series of banter and admonishment transpired before the journey proceeds.

As you ascended on the golden dais, your heart hammered like you came out from a marathon.

Warm, soft hands clasped your sweaty, cold ones. Frigga smiled with an aura that radiated serenity.

“Take care, daughter. Please, look after my wayward sons.”

Frigga descended with grace, leaving you, Loki and Thor in the dais. Heimdall gripped the hilt of the golden sword.

With one fluid thrust of the ornate golden sword, Kaleidoscope of lights blinded your vision.

The feeling was unpleasant— like your skin was tearing away from your flesh.

Nausea rippled down in your gut like a volcano threatening to erupt as your feet touched the ground.

Subtly, you clamped a hand over tour mouth and swallowed the bitter bile.

The queasiness made your movements stiff. It was contrary to Loki as he greeted the King and queen and their entourage with eloquence and poise.

You wanted to bolt, but you were trapped in your reverie, caged by your new status.

It was an unsolved puzzle as to why they chose you to be Loki’s consort. 

Acceptable Heritage, yes. Other than that, nothing.

A fleeting second that ticked by felt like eternity as your stomach churned.

“Your Majesties, Lords and Ladies,” Loki spoke, pulling you from your train of thoughts. “Forgive us for retiring early, but my wife is unwell.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. Traveling can be tiring at times,” replied King Njörd.

Disparate footsteps and the clinking metal echoed sharply throughout the massive hallway.

No signs of grime can be seen on the brown marbled floor. A somber-looking girl caught your eyes.

Weak.

Unadorned.

Vile.

Unseemly.

It was your reflection.

Warm, green mist surrounded you. The churn in your stomach ceased. The weight of turmoil on your shoulders, however, remained.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”  _We should’ve stayed._

Your voice was whispered, soft and faint, only meant for your ears.

The clinking of metal halted. Languidly, you lifted your gaze.

Loki’s face basked with an impish grin. “And let your spew your insides in front of dignitaries?”

To be seen in soft in a fragile way, like porcelain, ready to fall on the ground vexed you

“We’re here, Your highnesses,” the servant announced in a modulated voice.

* * *

Jabbing drums vibrated as the glowing horizon change into darkness. Like a game of tug-of-war. 

Your name was uttered. A bead of cold sweat sliding down your forehead.

The rhythmic jabs ceased, replaced by series of applauds as you and Loki were called out.

The fog of stillness plummeted your brain; it settled like a soft cloud and absorbed all sound.

Loki’s deft fingers clasped your sweaty ones, squeezing it lightly. Like usual, he wore the cloak of elegance and impeccably impassive expression.

Succor reassurances inside your mind kept the tremor from entirely consuming your being once you stood on the dais.

Wispy plumes of silver smoke lazily waltzed their way upwards as the ivory candles burned.

A crimson red silk was in Loki’s hands. With bold movements, he strutted towards you.

After a hesitant coquettish sway of your hip, you glide away further. That was the concept of the ritual— entice the male and taunt him.

The minuscule bells on your ankles would ring in a peal as you twirled and move around in circles.

The dance was similar to catching a fish. Loki, the fisherman; and you, the piteous fish.

The soft silk wrapped around your shoulders. You were caught.  A vow was uttered, ensuring fertility and fidelity.

 _Ironic_ .

If the audience scorned at the whole ordeal of the fertility and fidelity vow, they made no sign to show it.

Once back at the table, you gently tipped the goblet into your mouth. The first strong taste of wine burned your throat, leaving behind an aftertaste of sweet honey.

Sip wine and pop a morsel had been your routine now.

“My Lady, would you care to dance?”

“Yes, I would love to,” you replied.

Thor’s palm was warm and callous; it was in contrast to Loki’s deft and smooth ones.

The Minstrels continuously fiddled their strings to create an upbeat tune. Perfectly fit for a Rørosol.

Instantly, your mood swayed with the tune.

Thor’s big hands rested in the right places and the two of you twirled around the dance floor.

“Are you healing well from your sickness this morning, My Lady?” 

Thor shouted through the loud music.

“I wouldn’t be here if I were not.” You yelled back with a grin.

“That’s normal though. Everybody gets fatigued the first time they travel the Bifrost.”

A hearty laugh would escape your lips every now and then due to the both of you nearly tripping.

There was an amicable charm in Thor that would make anyone fall at his feet.

“Let me have a dance with the fair lady.”

Thor eyed you. “Only if the lady consents.”

Tentatively, you nodded.

Sweat formed on your forehead, as your new partner clasped your hands. An awkward movement followed.

“I knew I’d see you soon,” Freyr said. “Our first encounter wasn’t exactly ideal. I had the impression that your a submissive little marionette— hold on, did you just roll your eyes?”

You quirked a brow. “Did I?”

His glowing red hair swayed with his movement and constantly brushed against your shoulder.

A mirthful chuckle escaped his lips. 

“As I was saying, you have a spine, not just a little marionette to be controlled. I admire it.”

It left you reeling with emotion and a smile procured on your lips.

Freyr was a wonderful dancer. He guided you to the dance floor with fine, calculated movements.

A familiar prickle of gleaming green eyes was upon you. Instantly, it vanished like a puff of smoke.

“Are you looking for something?”

Your wandering eyes stilled. “Someone, actually.”

The first part of the celebration ended. The roaring exuberance was replaced with comforting silence.

The soothing flames of the candle lit the dark hallways beguilingly.

Hint of Jovial shouts caught your ears. Cacophony of applause and cheering, buzzed through the charged scullery.

“Off she goes with a hearty laugh

Mighty prince ‘ands all clasped

Fair lady dance an’ dance—

Poor ‘ol husband-“

Their voices rang inside your head. Like a fish, your mouth went agape. You blinked, washing away the shock.

“Said another mighty prince:

Let me have a dance with the fair lady.”

You could taste the humiliation in your mouth.

No, you won’t shed tears over frivolous things.

You won’t.

Never.

In the solace of the dark, foreign, bedchamber; a heavy sigh, a sound of exasperation, a sound of frustration escaped your lips.

They were singing ballads.

About you.

In a blink of an eye, it will reach everyone’s ears.

“Are you done with your little tryst?”

There was a malicious undertone in his voice. It felt like a stab in the chest and you flinched visibly.

_ Norns, please, not now. _

“I—“

A glint of crimson red orbs peered into you with such intensity. Unintelligible words were all you could emit.

His footsteps were heavy and the metal of his armor clinked as he sidled nearer.

“Shame on you. Did you find Thor unsatisfactory that you had another prince wrapped around your fingers.”

The tightening of your jaw and the apparent white of your knuckles didn’t dissuade Loki.

“I cannot believe they married me to a whore. Is that how your ambitious family raised—“

The impact of your palm colliding with his face sent assuaging burn.

It felt good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I don’t have anything against Sigyn and Loki in Myths even in Marvel. In fact, I adore her. 
> 
> Second, You might be wondering why the sudden change of reader’s personality. In the first chapters, she seemed bold, confident and nonchalant. Future chapters will explain the sudden change. 
> 
> Third, the gloomy tone or setting is because of the weather in my country. I usually take inspo irl. 
> 
> Fourth, CAT THOR GUYS. I repeat Cat Thor. I was laughing for good couple of minutes when I saw that comic panel. I don’t know my humor is weird af. 
> 
> If you want to see it, google Cat Thor sksks
> 
> Fifth, the inaccuracy of Norse culture. There were very few sites I came across when researching about Viking dances. One site claims that Rorosol is a dance done in pairs which involves twirling and kicking. Idk how to describe it. 
> 
> The ritual dance was also made up. At first, I was keen of the idea of Loki & reader partaking in a public sex while their audience chant prayers or smth, but then I realized it will be kinda off. 
> 
> They’ve only done the act once. And it was on their wedding night. Doing it on public on their second would not be ideal. 
> 
> Sixth, the ballad. (´°ω°`) I know nothing regarding ballads (and poems) so I am very sorry. I was vv reluctant adding that. 
> 
> Seventh, Loki deserved that slap. Them insulting you is one thing, but it’s another thing if they involved your fam. 


	9. IX. Hypocrisy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We are all hypocrites. We cannot see ourselves or judge ourselves the way we see and judge others.”
> 
> -José Emilio Pacheco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The anti-terrorism was signed last week. Imagine curbing free speech and targeting peaceful dissent?? Imagine sending an investigation team because one uni student hurt a senator’s feelings?? Asdhdhdj. 
> 
> Sad thing is, there are people who support this. 

Fire churned in your abdomen, heating the blood in your veins. With heavy, uncoordinated steps, you wandered outside the gates.

Adhering to Fandral and Sif’s words is what you should’ve done. Instead, you let your naivety sway your judgment.

A bitter smile procured on your lips. You had over analyzed his actions. It was all an illusion made by your foolish, optimistic mind.

_ You ruined his life. He hates you. _

The howling of wind and creaking of branches cut you from reverie. The silhouettes of the trees were spine-tingling.

Though, the solace of the eerie forest provided more comfort than the warmth of your chambers.

_Away from Loki._

_Away from anyone._

The sound of flowing water eased your mind. The water provided no warmth, making you shudder, but that didn’t stop you from rinsing your face.

A minuscule orb appeared at your palm, lighting the surrounding. There was no reflection of the moon or stars, only a canvass of thick bundle of clouds.

Your feet brought you to the odd-shaped sycamore tree.

The rough texture of the tree met your back as you sat. Ire stroked your being every time his words echoed inside your head.

And every time your eyes fluttered shut, an image of his cold, scorning face would flash. His impassive expression, his calm, sardonic tone, his eyes—

It hit you. The familiar forest green orbs were replaced with crimson red ones.

The sudden flash of lightning made you yelp. Not because of the lightning but because of the imposing figure that appeared out of nowhere. 

“That was the second time you slapped me.”

A bigger orb floated in the air, and you can see his knitted brows and the finger-shaped bruise adorning his cheek.

“And I don’t regret any of it.” You gave sharp tight-lipped that doesn’t meet your eyes. “I humbly appreciate you gracing me with your godly presence, but I need you to leave.”

The pent up emotions unlocked its way from your tongue, smoothly without any filter. Deference be damned.

“Forgive me.” The words were a silent breath; almost inaudible and imaginary, but the flush adorning his whole face was enough to confirm.

A soft giggle fell from your mouth, then loud laughter, shattering the blanket of tranquility that seeped the forest.

“What if I don’t want to forgive you?” You matched his profound gaze and your lips twitched. “Are you going to penalize me because of my impudence in not accepting your moiety-hearted apology?”

No saccharine words were uttered on his part, but his glistening eyes said million things.

“Say it,” you whispered harshly. “Say that I’m a whore.”

His features softened. The way he fiddled his hands had caught your attention.

“You’re not.” Sincerity and remorse laced his voice. But it could all be a font. He had his ways to bend people’s will after all. “I didn’t mean to—“

“You called my family ambitious.”

He fell silent, eyes fixed on the ground.

Looking at him slowly ebbed the burning flame you felt like a puff of smoke. Once again, compassion seeped through.

“You perplex me. Why must you wear a mask?” 

He blinked slowly, then a scowl formed on his face, then into a relaxed, controlled one you were familiar with.

A light, breathy chuckle escaped his lips. “My Lady, what a presumptuous mind you have.”

His words did not anger you, in fact, a smile of triumph painted on your lips. “I speak of the truth, My Lord.”

A momentary pause stopped by as the crispy wind blew— making the leaves fiercely rustle against each other.

“I am Loki, the God of Evil.” 

The words that escaped Loki's lips were clear of sarcasm, the tone serious. “I usurped the throne, I enslave Midgard and you claim I’m not evil?”

“I did,” you admitted crossing your arms. “What you did is horrible.”

He tilted his head slightly to the side. “And your perspective changed because?”

“I saw a snippet of kindness behind that mask. A mask of wickedness to conceal your weakness.”

With fluid strides, he was in front of you. The musky smell of leather and winter trickled your nose.

One side of his lips curled.

“Do I hear hypocrisy here? You, My Lady, wear a mask to conceal your vulnerability,” he growled.

The tables turned. No witty response came out, instead, an uncharacteristic grim line appeared on your mouth.

“A sensitive girl who put a nonchalant facade to deceive herself and others to appear strong.”

Every single word made you flinch.

_Flinch from the truth._

A refusal was on the tip of your tongue, sharp and cutting, but it never came, never slipped your lips.

Instead, a feigned diminutive smile appeared. Both of you were cowards. Attempting to hide yourselves to avoid pain, disappointment and pity.

“You’re right. We’re alike,” you admitted with a chuckle.

There was no smug look on his face. There was only a look of understanding that burned behind the pools of his green eyes.

“Why do you abhor me?” you asked all of a sudden. “We know we’re both victims in this ordeal. And don’t give me that evil excuse.”

“I can’t help it,” he said. The anger didn't dispense from the tone, but the volume lowered. “For once, I was able to find happiness; Someone who loves me despite my flaws.”

Lips parted and closed, the words you wanted to speak wouldn't come to mind and any explanation melted from your mind.

Hearing him say that caused emotions to stir in you. He had found someone to give his heart unconditionally and vice versa.

He found the happiness that he had been searching for in his entire life. He found approval that he had been denied.

“I’m a fool. I should have treated you with reverence.” Deft hands attempted to reach out to you but froze halfway. “We should return.”

“I agree with both of your statements.”

The orb lighted the path. Sounds of broken twig made you uneasy. You were in a forest after all. Lurking wild beast may attack you.

“Legends say that a fire breathing beast accommodates this area,” Loki said breaking the silence.

“I hate to break it to you, but it’s not working.”

He raised a brow. “What are you talking about?”

“I know what you’re attempting to do.”

The left side of his faint thin lip tugged upwards creating. “Really now. Either you have eyes on me or you’re really perceptive.”

A hum escaped your lips. “The latter.”

Before a word escaped his mouth, the blazing thunder roared accompanied with lighting. A single drop of liquid kissed your skin. The ambient bead of liquid dropped chaotically.

The grounds and your clothes were drench.

“Blasted Thor!”

His hair fell like a curtain around him, a blanket of raven silk.

You choked a laugh and Loki rolled his eyes. An undignified yelp escaped your lips as your face unceremoniously kissed the parched soil.

The vile bitter taste of soil made you cough. The cackle that resounded was sharp and the gaze that met you sparkled.

“Oh dear, are you fond of planting your face to the ground?”

The obvious signs of mischievousness radiated in his eyes.

A fistful of mud was thrown at him, directly coating his face. You would never back down without revenge.

“You’re on now,” he purred.

* * *

Every trot the stallion made, your head throbbed. All you could do was grip the reins. As minutes passed, your eyes were unfocused as you attempt to take in your surrounding.

“There it is!”

The unfamiliar voice of one of the members of the hunting party rang loudly inside your head making you hiss in pain.

The rest turned their head. There was indeed a blurry image of a huge Bilgesnipe near the flowing river.

It was part of the Fertility Festival custom to hunt a Bilgesnipe. Draw its blood and refine it to make fertility serums.

The party went after the poor creature. Sadly, it did not have a chance to escape their brutal hands. 

Their jovial tone made you think they were celebrating. Celebrating a decapitation of a poor, defenseless creature against a band of warriors.

A whimper escaped your throat as the sudden pain shot through once more. Metallic taste instantly enveloped your buds.

Loki’s green eyes peered at you, as his stallion moved beside yours. A deft hand gripped your shoulders lightly. His mouth moved but a high-pitched ringing sound was all you could hear.

You hissed.

The pain in your head only amplified, searing fiery burst pulsated. A flicker of black mists swirled at the edges of your mind drawing you into sweet oblivion.

* * *

High ceilings greeted you. You ran a hand around your forehead and felt tiny beads of cold sweat.

The insistent sound angry drop of rain kept knocking on the window with rhythm. You balled the duvet.

Somehow, your body temperature was low. You moist your chapped, shivering lips.

“You’re awake. Good.” Loki placed empty goblet on the table and stood.

“Have you got any idea what happened?”

A nod was your sole response.

Four fluid strides and he reached the door. Minutes later a servant appeared with a goblet, carafe, cups and a dark blue vial.

It was the same servant who escorted you to your rooms. Her hair reminded you of a flowing never-ending flame that moths surround themselves.

She smiled, the lines on her forehead visible. Her expression was warm and immediately you took a liking on her.

The refreshing warm water quenched your dry throat. If not for your audience, you would chug the whole carafe.

His green orbs darted at the vial with scrutiny but his lips remained tight.

“A gift from her highness, My Lord,” she explained in a modulated voice. “The vial contains medical herbs to ease your highness’ pain.”

“Ah, tell the princess her courtesy is appreciated,” Loki said with a smile.

The door clicked. The finish was at the tip of your mouth. A hand quickly grabbed your wrist before you can take in a single drop.

A questioning look was all you gave.

“Do not intake that. We don’t know if it is tampered as well.”

You glanced upward, mouth pursed but slightly open and loose. There was no brewing prank present on his face.

His hand slithered on the vial and it vanished into a puff of green smoke.  At least he didn’t throw it.

Loki opened his mouth.

“You were mumbling in your sleep. A nightmare perhaps?”

A shiver ran down your spine. The voices called, screamed and screeched with anger each time you fall into a deep slumber.

Hearing your name from Loki’s lips snatched you from the grasp of your thoughts.

The smell of tea probed your nose as he offered you one. You clasped the dainty cup.

“You were implying earlier that there was an attempt on my li—“

He put his index on his lips and you clamped your mouth. Somehow you find that a little bit... sexy.

You shook your head.

_ There are important matters to discuss. _

The golden metals on his armor disappeared with a golden flare as he strode. With the metals gone, Loki looked less intimidating.

Awkwardness crept into the room, slipped past cracks and open doors when he sat on the other side of the bed. His long legs stretched and his back cooly leaning against the headboard.

The proximity of your bodies made your stomach churn. His back cooly leaned against the headboard.

You imitated him.

“There was indeed an attempt on your life. Someone tampered your food.”

The grip on the dainty cup tightened.

“I-i thought it was due to the lengthy exposure of rain.” Your voice quivered, words barely escaped your mouth.

“I reckoned as well,” he answered. “However, the healers found a rare poisonous flower extract in your body whilst you were examined on the forge.”

A familiar black leather book appeared in his hand and the yellowed pages flipped on its own.

Then it stilled. A black lotus with hints of glowing purple was elaborately drawn above the ancient runes.

“The ancient Völvas grew these flowers. It was used for tortures but it had gone extinct. The pain can make even the strong succumb into madness if neglected for days.”

A little spot of brown formed at the blanket due to your uncontrollably trembling hands. Still trembling, you put the cup at the nightstand.

“How did it get out of my body?”

Loki shot you a sympathetic look. “It did not. My seiðr is all that’s preventing you from feeling pain.”

Your eyelids closed, allowing the empty darkness to fill the space around you.

Calm down and think.

Calm down and think.

Calm down and think.

The book must have answers. There must be an antidote or—

A light snigger probed your ears.

“You do realize I’m jesting,” he crooned.

You bit your tongue.

_ It’s okay. It’s okay. He’s probably attempting to lighten the mood, right? Right? _

“Your humor is absurd.” The tone of anger wasn’t absent as you spoke.

The amusement in his gaze was gone and replaced with the same coldness of a King.

“The root of the said plant can be used as an antidote. Ironic,” he said, low and calm.

You huffed. “As you said the plants went extinct.”

“I grew one while you were unconscious.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Three days,” he replied. You pursed your lips. “Don’t fret I’ve created an illusion to make it look like you were there at my side.”

Maintaining appearance whilst using seiðr must have had taken a toll on him. Not to mention that he grew a poisonous flower as well. “How did you grow the flower?”

You lifted the cup. The tea tasted sweet in your mouth, the bitterness of it dissolved as if it was never there. It kind of reminded you of the tea back ho— at the palace.

“Seed. Any kind of flower seed and a drop of blood from a fire breathing beast.”

You froze.

Regaining your thoughts, you put the cup on the nightstand. “You weren’t jesting when you said that?”

“I was though. Not until yesterday I found out,” he replied calmly. “Anyways, do you recall those who occupied the library that day?”

The memory flashed in your head. One by one you enlisted them— the Librarian, Bragi, Höðr, and the group of noble ladies.

“That’s it?”

“Come to think of it, Lady Sigyn was present as well,” you added.

He didn’t utter a word, just blankly stared at you. The silence stretched into an uncomfortable one.

The silence allowed your brain to put the pieces together. The assassin was on the Library that day. There was no coincidence in that. It was clear as crystal.

“The assassin is likely part of the rebellion. And if that’s the case, it confirms your theory. They have other means to hop realm to realm since the Bifrost is only limited to us at the moment.”

With a mist of green, the book vanished. The situation was direr than you expected. The execution of the Jarl did not deter their plan.

_ Whatever it was.  _

One thing made it clear. The attempt on your life could either be: you were an obstacle or a mere warning, a message.

“You should rest.” The gentleness in his voice was addictive, the weight of them compelling as they settled on your chest with a softness.

The mattress inflated to its original form as he stood up. He turned his heel, walking towards the divan.

The gesture was sweet, nonetheless, he was still a prince.

“I can sleep there,” you said.

He craned his neck.

“So can I.” Loki raised his palm as you attempted to stand. “Now be good and stay there before I chain you.”

His words made you feel things. You moist your lips. 

He laid his back on the divan while his hands rested under his head. Silence descended upon them, the sound of pouring rain the only music in the room, it was peaceful and quiet.

The panic burned in your chest and clouding your thoughts. “They were singing ballads in the kitchen about me,” you started. “of the dance and,” you trailed.

“Don’t fret I’ve taken care of it.”

A relieved sigh escaped your lips. “Thank you, My Lord.”

“Call me Loki.“

The corner of your lips twitched, a smile threatening to spread across your face. “Goodnight, Loki.”

Sleep did not come immediately. Unease filled your senses. It was too much to take in.

* * *

Moist, salty tears cascaded down your face. You try to recall your nightmare but to no avail... Drowsily, your eyes wandered around the expanse of the chamber. The divan was empty and the door was ajar.

You grabbed a robe. The door clicked behind you as you step outside the threshold.

The blackness of the night swallowed everything save a red flicker. The hallway was filled with ominous brittle silence yet your feet wander aimlessly.

Even away from Asgard, your nightmares came to haunt you. Perhaps you could ask Loki if there’s a spell to ease—

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes caught a silhouetted figure at the end of the hallway. Discreetly, you stalked the figure, hiding on the pillars along the way.

As you turn to the right, it was gone. You were about to return but an indistinct sound filled your senses. They were mumbling.

Then you heard footsteps. Slow and Powerful. Adrenaline coursed through your system, shutting down your ability to think.

Your breath hitched. Color drained from your face. Goosebumps from your arms down to your legs apparent. 

A hand was clasping your neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might be wondering when Loki said, ‘That the second time you slapped me.’ Don’t worry it will be explained in chapter 10. 
> 
> Also, Loki’s apology was not what i imagined :(( It should be more heartfelt. But writing dialogues isn’t my forte. 
> 
> I really need your thoughts on this one, so leave a comment. 


	10. X. Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable.
> 
> -Mark Twain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW // dub con touching
> 
> sorry it took me a month to finally update. istg i did my best not to make this chapter cringe yet i still flinch whenever i try to edit it. so thats basically the main reason of the delay :>

“I really should have chained you.”

A blush crept on your face realizing the proximity of your bodies. Loki’s hand was placed at the back of your neck; the other one on your waist as he backed you against the pillar.

Forest green eyes met yours. Awkwardly, you cleared your throat. The lack of personal space must have hit him. Loki retracted his hands, clasping them behind his back and took a step backwards.

“What are you doing here?” He whispered.

“I don’t know.”

One of his perfectly trimmed brow quirked. “You don’t know?”

A nod was your sole response, but it was the truth. It was as if an invisible force whispering at your ears prompted you to wander around and along the way, curiosity mingled.  Was he the silhouette figure?

“What are you doing here, Loki?”

His turned his neck from side to side. His reaction said it all. You pursed you lips. _He’s cautious. _Loki was not here for a nightly wander; he was here for something.

“Catching the assassin,” he all but whispered in a silky voice. Before you could open your mouth, his hand clamped your mouth. “Hush.”

Faint sound of footsteps were heard, then became more apparent as it echoed sharply around the deserted hallway, sounding overly loud in your own ears. Loki’s chest was pressed against yours and you can practically feel his booming heartbeat.

“Is someone here?” Loki instantly breathed a sigh of relief and retracted his hand on your mouth. Though, he didn’t move. “Prince Loki? Oh, Your highness,” she greeted both of you.

“Freya,” Loki addressed.

The Vanir Princess’ portraits have no justice. Her beauty was otherworldly; no words could explain. Her golden flowing hair, honey colored skin, bright alluring blue eyes— like the sea, crystal clear blue, and her voluptuous figure.  Goddess of Beauty . She really did live up to her title.

“Nightly romp, I pressure?” A chuckle escaped her like soft little bells that chimed pleasantly.“Ah, how nostalgic. Those nights when we bathe under the moon—“

A sharp, vulgar cough of you coming from your throat made her stop. She bore her gaze towards you with a smile lingering on her lips, the kind of smile that could lit up the room. Her eyes sparkled like stars. “How are you faring with your illness, My Lady.”

“Quite good actually, hence for the obnoxious coughing. The potion has eased the pain, thank you.” The words that came from your mouth flowed swiftly— it would take a God of Lies to tell you were lying.

“I’m glad.” The smile vanished once she turned towards Loki. She barely spares a glance in your direction. 

“She just recovered and you’re at it again. Let her rest.”

There was a pause. There was a hitch in time where the mists draped the moon and stars twinkled. There was a second where no one spoke; no one moved except for Freya. Her palm playfully connected with Loki’s shoulder with a resounding smack. The prince’s green orbsflickered with animosity and displeasure when her flattened palm on his shoulder slithered down his chest smoothly.

Heavy silence descended.

Being surrounded with dignitaries for quite some time, you mastered the art of corporeal nonchalance.  Perfect for this kind of situations . 

It was evident that no romantic feelings were harbored between you and Loki, yet the display disturbed you. For one, he was still your husband.

“You’re right. Come, wife, let’s take you to bed.” All the tension left once Loki spoke. Loki turned on his heel, nit sparing the Princess another glance.

“Good night, Your Highness,” you bid, then followed Loki.

Nebulous orange flame lit up the hallway. It danced off the walls and reflected back into Loki’s green eyes. Once out of hearing range, A a sigh passes through his lip, and smirks lightly. “You caught that, did you?”

“Of course,” you whispered, no sense of denial. You moistened your dry lips. It was apparent as day that Freya was one of his many conquest. “Even a child would.”

* * *

_ The sound of burning wood and fire cackling enveloped the All-mother’s chambers. _

_ The two of you remained that way, not moving and not speaking like time itself had froze. _

_ The spell broke when Loki’s deft fingers traced your cheek. Gently, he threaded his cool fingers in your hair and caressed it. _

_ Loki lift you gently on the ground, sitting you atop of him. His thumb delicately traced your clothed waist. You quivered at his touch. _

_ “Are you afraid to be alone with me?” His soft lips were pressed against your lobe as he spoke.  _

_Your mouth spouted the truth. His chest vibrated and you realized he was chuckling._

_ He nibbled the shell of your ear, the tingling sensation made you pull back. _

_Loki’s hands locked around your waist. “Hush, my sweet.”_

_ He nuzzled his head on the curve of your neck. He darted his soft, wet muscle. An unrecognizable sound escaped your mouth. _

_ The smirk painted on his face told you everything. _

_ “My Prince,” you mumbled with shaky, shallow breaths. “This is highly inappropriate.” _

_ “But you’re enjoying yourself, yes?” _

_Before you could respond, his teeth grazed and nipped your collar bone. Now it was not simply knocking, it was forcing its way inside._

_ “Your mother, My Prince. She might comeback any moment. This needs to stop,” you protested. _

_ Loki didn’t hear you and proceeded making you feel good.  _

_Resist._

_ Resist. _

_ Resist. _

_ “Your mother will return soon, My Prince.” _

_ The intense rhythm of your heartbeat undergoes an irregular pace,as his dexterous fingers languidly unlaced your bodice. _

_ “Stop—“ your voice came out weak and shaky. _

_ “Just let go. I’ll make you feel good.” _

_ A cold water woke you from your reverie. _

_ Resi—st... _

_ The tip of his finger grazed at your heated thigh, moving upwards, sending frenzy tingles. _

_ Loki lightly tugged your undergarment. _

_ Before your senses could flood your sense of rationality, you pulled back and raised your hand. _

_ The echoing sound of cracking skin startled the black-haired prince. _

* * *

The temperature dropped and the smell of parched ground evaded your senses. You were not in the hallway anymore nor inside the palace. 

The wind howled as if it was weeping. You felt like a fool walking outside with a robe. A sudden flick of your wrist, the robe vanished, replaced by a light gown instead.

“Why are we here?” you asked.

“A clandestine meeting.”

He didn’t bother look back, just kept moving forward. Trying to match his pace was quite difficult. Well, everything that had to do with Loki was quite difficult.

His mind worked downright complex and unpredictable. There were times were his flaring temper would control him; and there were times when he was in control of himself and a couple steps ahead of everyone. Somehow, you only hoped that you would not be left behind.

The night was deep. The town square was completely devoid of life, hence the two of you. The torches flared, but not enough to light the whole surrounding.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Loki’s hand stilled halfway from touching you. You wanted to tell him it’s okay, but for some reason words didn’t form.

“Follow me,” was all he said as he hid behind the tree. Questions flooded inside your mind but you acquiesced. You hid behind the tree beside him. Once your back was against the rough bark, Loki turned to you and put his index on his lips.

A silhouette caught your eye. The burly figure belonged to a man. Itsmovements unsteady as he walked forward. As soon as the torch illuminated his face, a relieved sigh escaped you.

_ Thor _

The corners of your mouth twitched when you heard him mumbling something at Mjolnir. He was inebriated. Your face fell when several cloaked figures appeared, surrounding the inebriated prince.

The recent dream flashed in your mind like a vague cinematography. There was fluid, red fluid dripping, quenching the embers—

Dreams were a peculiar thing; they can either be visions or random things generated in the head that remained in one's mind.

Your heart skipped a beat.

A shiny dagger emerged on one of the cloaked figures hand and your breathing hitched. Dry leaves crunched beneath you as you stepped out of your hiding.

“Who goes there?” One of the cloaked figure asked.

“Don’t you dare,” Loki whispered harshly, but his words dissolved like a puff of thin smoke. “Hide behind the tree, now!”

Impulse flicking like a switch, your feet surged forward on its own. Cold fingers gripped your forearm like manacles. With fervor, you struggled against his hold, clawing his hand away and pulling yourself away from him.  


The dagger was pressed against Thor’s neck, yet he was still chuckling and mumbling incoherent words.

You elbowed his chest, hard. A grunt escaped him. Taking advantage of his daze state, you ran towards the cloaked men.

“Thor!”

Your shout echoed on the empty, dark town square then followed by deep heavy silence, a slithering snake that crept and slinked until they were caught in its trap.

Two cloaked men were suddenly headed to your direction. Your feet firmly remained frozen on the spot despite your brain yelling you to run.

Before their shiny blades could hit you, the men emitted a painful grunt. Then a loud thud. The attackers were on your feet, bloody and unmoving.  


Just then, Thor reached out his palm, in a flash, Mjolnir was there coated blood of the attackers.

The tip of your gown was drenched in blood as well. Loki came out from the shadows and fought along side with Thor. Loki moved swiftly and dodged his attacker. The movement of the man was uncalculated and predictable.

You came out of your senses when a burly man was heading to your direction. You wouldn't have noticed him if it wasn't for his obnoxious screaming. He was carrying a sharp-pointed sword aiming directly at your head. 

Crouching down, you evaded the attack swiftly.  Breathe in; breathe out, remember your training.  You imagined yourself at the training grounds back home. Imagining that this was a friendly match rather than a life or death matter eased your mind a little.

_Focus on your enemy’s ha_ nd.

For a while, all you did was evade his attacks. A tut escaped you. If this go on, your stamina would crumble. And you can’t merely lean on the Prince’s protection.

A thrust from the weapon, made you fall back on the ground. Cold, sharp eyes behind the mask met yours. The sword was raised above his head. “Farewell, your highness. You’re free from your marriage-“

A pained whimper escaped him before he could finish his sentence as your foot propelled into groin. The shattering of his family jewel probed your ears and a series of curses directed at you escaped his mouth.

The sword rested on the ground, and you grabbed it, tightly. The sword’s grip mold perfectly in your hands. The reflection of the orange torch flame danced warmly within the cool steel as you weighted the blade.

You lifted the enemy’s chin using the tip. Hesitation flooded inside your head. The sword in your hand became unsteady; you were trembling.

“Is Milady afraid to kill?” He taunted, pain still lacing on his voice. A frown formed at your forehead. His accent, it was foreign. “Coward. Just kill me—“

The sword in your hand slashed upward, causing a whimper to escape him. The mask, the plain white mask broke into half with a heavy crack. Your mouth went slightly agape.

“Surprised?” he asked, lips curled into a smug smile. He was an elf— his ears and silver white hair said it all. His lips moved up and down but your attention was elsewhere.

You felt a lingering presence from behind.

The sword in you right hand slashed delicately in the air with a novice-like apprehension. Blood spattered from the new attacker‘s stomach, smearing your dress more with crimson fluid. You heaved a breath, the trembling more apparent.

You were quick to pry another attack and whipped around to clash steel with the attacker.

The blade was even in your hands; a perfect undaunted horizon leveled with your nose.  Calm down. It’s just another tournament.

By the looks of it, it’s another man.

A stained chuckle escaped the attackers lips as your body shivered under the brutality of his compelling strength.

“Weapons do not suit you,” he throatily crooned. A howl escaped him as you broght your dist to his already wounded stomach.

Swiftly, your blade flashed as you brought it over his head and hummed.

“Was that your first kill?” the elf scoffed, staggering on his feet. Before you could thrust your blade, a puff of black smoke appeared and he vanished.

You look over your shoulders.

There was no trace of the enemies except for the puddle of bloods. 

* * *

Silence seeped into their your pore, like a poison slowly paralyzing you from either speech or movement.

You pursed your lips.

Loki’s silence was petrifying. Never once did he speak upon reaching the palace grounds. His eyes blazed as his mouth contorted into an angry smile as he scoffed as his sharp eyes locked with yours.

“Your impulsiveness nearly git us killed. I told you to stay put, I’ve hidden us behind a damn tree for a reason.”

His voice was void of mirth, devoid of any emotions. An icy current, a cold breeze and falling snow. His voice was the winter wind as it sent a chill down her spine, left you trembling.

“Brother, this is no time to put blam—“

“I’m not blaming her, I’m educating her,” Loki interrupted, voice still calm and low but with a heavy undertone of anger. “This madness could’ve end if she adhered to the plan.”

Your brow arched.

“A plan.” The words came out sounded low and flat. “A plan. Perhaps next time we include  me in on The Plan. And don’t just respond something like a  clandestine meeting .”

Loki crossed his hand over his chest and raised a brow. “Why do you think the All father sent Thor to accompany us?”

_ Not everyone can read between the lines and be as smart as you. _

“Apart from him being the god of thunder, he’s also a god of fertility?”

He opened his mouth, retort at the tip of his tongue but you already turned on your back and sauntered on the balcony before he could spout it.

There were far more things to worry about than to let him berate you.

A single drop of tear cascaded down once you reached the balcony of your designated chambers.

It was no friendly tournament this time wherein a medal or praise was your prize for winning. It was guilt. That was your prize of taking someone’s life

The dots of faint lights in the dark carpet met your eyes. You gazed at it, not for forgiveness, but to alleviate the turmoil inside, because they won’t judge you. They just yield us beacon— trying to remind that no one is perfect, be it may a god or not.

Seconds, Minutes, Hours ticked. You didn’t care about your aching muscles, you just stood there basking the darkness of the night.

Coordinated,familiar footsteps was coming from behind. You gripped the balustrade. 

Somehow, you’ve gotten accustomed by the sound of his footsteps to actually recognize him.

His face was tranquil, no sense of anger and sharpness that was present before.

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t care for the lack of conversation, didn’t mind the silence that stretched between you and him.

The wind carried the scent of winter and leather, wrapping your senses, leaving you aching and desperate for any contact. You weren’t supposed to do this, but your hands wrapped around him.

Your strength drained, taken by the breeze. 

You collapsed back into the embrace, crumpled into the warmth with tense muscles and an ache that spread through you body, that permeated your senses.

“I’m okay. I just need a moment,” you mumbled. A ghost of a smile crawled to your face, a weak attempt at reassurance, a feeble effort at normalcy. 

* * *

**3 hours earlier...**.

“What was that?” you asked, the growing grin on your lips started to hurt.

“We’re going to the markets,” Loki responded. “The three of us. Thor, you and me before we start packing up.”

That had been the greatest news you’ve heard so far. You wondered how the markets of Vanaheim looked like. Perhaps similar to Asgard? You didn’t know.

** Present... **

The three of you walked on the Markets, like a normal foreign royals. Like anything that transpired that night had never happened. Like your hands were pure and didn’t rob anyone’s life.

Along the way, Thor’s path diverged, leaving the you and Loki walking side by side.

_ Deja vu. _

There were silks, different silks and jewelries. After walking a block or two, you suddenly halted. Arrayed in the window was slim, elegant pen; the barrel had an intricate pattern carved unto it, and the jewel that rests on the cap— 

_ Norns ! _

“What is it?” Loki asked.

“I forgot my pen at the Library back in Asgard.”

He shrugged.

“No big deal, you can retrieve it once we return.”

A nod was all you give in response. You were too overwhelmed upon finding a book that day in the forbidden section that you forgot your materials.

The pen and parchment wasn’t a big deal, really. But the letter and the poem dedicated to Loki. Heat crept unto your face. You prayed to the Norns that no one will ever set eyes on your flimsy writings.

That would be humiliating.

The soft bell on the door chimed once you set foot inside the shop. There were different pens, inks, art materials and parchments everywhere.

An old man on the counter flashed a radiant smile. “Your Highnesses, how may I help you?”

“How much is that pen?” Loki asked. pointing at the pen you were staring at just moments ago. 

“That’d be six-thousand coins.” 

“I can pay for it,” you said, fiddling your fingers. “I have money.”

“Who said I’m going to buy it for you?” The smile on Loki’s face spoke of mischief. You could perceive the flame of annoyance in your eyes as it burned. “I was jesting.”

“I am aware and I don’t need your money.”

“I insist.”

A soft smile lingered on your lips. “Loki, it’s fine. I just want to treat myself.“

It was a prideful proclamation on your part, words filled with satisfaction and confidence.

You grew up in luxury, surrounded by gold and silver. You grew up with beauty all around you, with majestic and grandeur marking your every step and every corner of his life. 

Luxury and richness were an aspect of your life, part of your character that could be perceived in your comfort at being surrounded by treasures and wealth. 

In a sense, you could acquire all your needs with just a snap. But acquiring your needs with labor of hard work provided a different kind of satisfaction.

The grin on your face as you left the shop could split your face. You were so excited to make use of the pen.

“If I may ask, what work do you do?”

“I’m a scribe,” you replied.

A mischievous grin formed on his handsome face. “Then, you really are prim and proper. You always stick to the constricting rules.”

“Yes, and what of it?”

“Just a thought, really. I mean you’re a scribe, yet you don’t know how to read old runes—“

“It’s forbidden.”

“I am aware,” he crooned. “Has it ever occurred to you learning about old runes?”

Of course . Many times actually, but you never dared go against the rules. You locked gaze with him, and narrowed your eyes. “What are you planning?”

“I am merely offering that I could help you acquire books in the dark section.”

Your ears perked up.

His eyes and tone was devoid of mischief, but you cannot help but wonder what he was up to. There must be a catch.

“Okay,” you replied shortyly. Perhaps you should loosened up a bit, to not always adhere to the rules, to do what you want.

It couldn’t end good, but the writer in you was already submerged into the depths temptation.

* * *

It was saddening to think that you were unconscious for the most part of your stay here at Vanaheim. And tomorrow, the three if you will depart.

You stood on the balcony, basking in the sunlight, inhaling the scent of late summer air.

A high-pitched scream was heard.

The beauty of the moment was long forgotten, the tranquility that embraced around you minutes ago was blown away by the hurricane of anxiety that raged inside of you.

It was as if the walls were slowly closing upon you. You walked to the hallways, feeling a chill travelling through you as you stepped on the cold marble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, guess what? I got accepted at the university and I’ve taken up Political Science. Which is vv unexpected since I’m shy af irl. And becoming a scientist has been planted in my mind since I was young and it was quite scary to actually realize that it wasn’t my interest at all. 
> 
> So, it took me like two months of denial. Then, one day I woke up and asked myself what am I really into. I found my answers. Social Issues. The injustices, the prejudices, the arbitrary laws— it enraged me to an end. The world is really, really, really fucked up. I want to be a lawyer and serve justice so badly. 
> 
> And, I may not update regularly since class is starting soon. 
> 
> Also....
> 
> I FINALLY GOT MY COPY OF LOKI: WHERE THE MISCHIEF LIES GUYS BUT I HAVENT READ UT YET. IM SO EXCITED AAAAA!!!


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